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MENU OF FAREWELL DINNER, LAZARETT VI 



GERMAN AERIAL PHOTOGRAPH TAKEN JUNE 3RD, I916, AT HEIGHT OF 7,500 FEET 
OF SECTION OF TRENCHES IN SANCTUARY WOOD, SHOWING THE RESULTS OF 
THE BOMBARDMENT OF JUNE 2ND. AT V ARE THE GERMAN FRONT 
LINE TRENCHES, AND AT Y ARE THE BRITISH FRONT LINE 
TRENCHES. THIS PHOTOGRAPH WAS FOUND AMONG THE 
EFFECTS OF A CAPTURED GERMAN OFFICER 




LIEUT. DOUGLAS TRAMPING IN SWITZERLAND AND WEARING 
"SHORTS" USED IN HOT WEATHER AT THE FRONT. 



CAPTURED 

SIXTEEN MONTHS AS 
A PRISONER OF WAR 

By LIEUT. J. HARVEY DOUGLAS 



Illustrated with Photographs 
by the Author 




NEW YORK 
GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY 






*r 



COPYRIGHT, 1918 
BY GBORGE H. DORAN COMPANY 



MAR 30 1918 



COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY 
J. HABVEY DOUGLAS 



PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 



©CLA49275"2 

<Us<0 j 



TO 

MY FATHER, MOTHER AND SISTER 

WHO, ALTHOUGH BURDENED WITH ANOTHER 

SORROW, DID EVERYTHING IN THEIR 

POWER TO MAKE MY LIFE AS A 

PRISONER OF WAR AS BRIGHT 

AND CHEERFUL AS WAS 

POSSIBLE UNDER THE 

CIRCUMSTANCES, 

THIS BOOK IS 

DEDICATED. 



FOREWORD 

At the time of my return to Canada I had abso- 
lutely no intention of writing a book on my ex- 
periences as a Prisoner of War, and laughed when 
the idea was first suggested to me. My friends 
showed such keen interest, however, in what hap- 
pened to me during the time I was mourned as 
dead and afterwards, when my first letter home re- 
stored me to life, that, to prevent repeatedly living 
over again many experiences which I would much 
rather forget, I have written this book. 

Many Canadian families are sitting at home 
wondering under what circumstances one or more 
of their loved ones are living while Prisoners of 
War, and a few American families are already do- 
ing the same thing. Unfortunately it is very likely 
that this unhappy list will be added to as the war 
progresses. I trust that my attempt at the por- 
trayal of the life of a Prisoner of War may in 
some way relieve the minds of the perplexed friends 
and relatives in that it tells them many things, 
which I was surprised to learn, are not already 
known. Of course, it must be understood that no 
two prisoners have exactly the same experiences — 
would that they could all have my good fortune! 

vii 



viii FOREWORD 



But, many of them are living, or will live, under 
circumstances similar to those under which I 
passed sixteen long months. 

It is the Prussian spirit of militarism which is 
responsible for most of the brutality, and, until 
it is stamped out, there will never be peace in 
any part of the globe. If I succeed in these pages 
in arousing the minds of many people to the reali- 
sation of the fact that, owing to this spirit of mili- 
tarism, our Prisoners of War have suffered hard- 
ships to the like of which no human being should 
ever be subjected, and that, even to-day, their treat- 
ment is often far from humane, I will feel that my 
efforts have not been in vain. 

I never wrote a book before in my life and in 
fact this one was not written, but, for the most 
part, dictated. I have not attempted to make it a 
work of art in the literary world — such a thing 
would be impossible for me ; but I have attempted 
to give a plain, straightforward statement of abso- 
lute facts : I have not even used fictitious names. 

I trust that nothing I have said will in any way 
make the life of my friends, who are still in Ger- 
many, even more hard, but rather, that any influ- 
ence this book may have will speed the day when 
a more free and generous exchange of Prisoners of 
War can be arranged between belligerent nations. 

J. H. D. 

Toronto, Dec. 4, 1917. 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I Our Last Trip In ...... 17 

II The Day Before ....... 22 

III June 2nd . ....... 27 

IV Captured ... . . . . .41 

V Through Belgium to Germany . . 47 

VI Lazarett VI 62 

VII Hospital Life Begins 72 

VIII Sunshine and Shadow 83 

IX Making the Best of It .... . 95 

X Privileges, Etc . 108 

XI Luxury Under Difficulties . . . .116 

XII Alone 128 

XIII The French Captain . . . ... . 136 

XIV Constance ........ 144 

XV Switzerland at Last ..... 157 

XVI Miirren 163 

XVII Lausanne . 172 

XVIII Back to Miirren — Repatriation . . 177 

XIX Home 191 

lx 



ILLUSTRATIONS 
Lieut. J. Harvey Douglas .... Frontispiece" 



PAGE 

/ 



Lazarett VI, Cologne 64 

French and Russian Prisoners at Lazarett VI 64 y 

Group of British Prisoners and Orderlies at 

Lazarett VI 74" 

Funeral of Captain Birt ....... 74" 

Funeral of Captain Birt 92 

Camp Money Issued by the Various Prison 

Camps 100' 

Rings Made by Prisoners 100 

Mckel Coin in Use Before War and War Issue 

of Same Value Made of Iron .... 100 ' 

Four Cheerful British Prisoners .... 118 

Lieut. Douglas, the French Captain and Lieut. 

Barnes 140 

Murren, Switzerland . 158 

Murren Military Printing Office .... 166' 

Carpenter's Shop 166" 

Murren Variety Entertainment Company . . 174 

The Wedding of Lieut. Hedges 182 v 

Departure of Repatriated Prisoners . . . 188 

Reunion of Tommies with Their Wives and 

Mothers in Switzerland 188 

xi 



CAPTURED 



CAPTURED 

CHAPTER I 
Our Last Trip In 

" All present and correct, sir," reported the Com- 
pany Sergeant-Major of " A " Company, 4th Cana- 
dian Mounted Rifles, as the officers came on parade 
for what was to be the last time. We were quite 
proud of our company because we had just received 
a reinforcing draft of 40 men which brought our 
numbers up to about 120 — slightly over one-half 
the number we should have had. But in those days 
men were not as plentiful as they are now. We had 
to get along somehow. 

Every man was carefully inspected to see that he 
had his steel helmet, two gas masks and his iron ra- 
tions. The latter consisted chiefly of a tin of bully 
beef and some hard biscuits. These were most nec- 
essary, as we never knew when the Germans might 
attempt a flank movement at the base of the Ypres 
salient, and if this were successful those of us who 
were at the nose of the salient might have to subsist 
for two or three days on our iron rations until a way 
could be cut through again. That tin of bully beef 

17 



18 CAPTURED 



struck the men as being a piece of useless and very 
heavy furniture which it was advisable to " ditch " 
if possible. 

It was just getting dusk as the inspection was 
completed. Every man hitched his pack up into a 
comfortable position on his back, gave a final tug at 
his belt and in a few minutes we were off on that 
long journey of seven miles, past Vlamertinghe and 
Ypres, right up the salient to the front line. Every 
man looked as though he were just going back to 
work after his summer holidays. We had had an 
eight- day rest and we were now going in to do a 
sixteen-day tour. 

The 4th C. M. R. were taking over a new part of 
the line. They were usually in Sanctuary Wood in 
the trenches which ran south from the gap at Hooge, 
commencing at the Appendix, and ending about op- 
posite the Bird Cage, that famous concrete snipers' 
post in the German lines which seemed to laugh at 
our artillery and continued to take its daily toll 
among our men. 

But on the night of May 31st, 1916, we were going 
into trenches which ran in a southwesterly direction 
in front of Observatory Ridge and Armagh Wood. 
The right of our line was about 500 yards from 
Hill 60 and rested on a short gap which separated 
us from the Second Division. We had the good for- 
tune for the first time in ages to be loaded on a train 

that sneaked up as far as without a light. 

Here we detrained and, after some marching, 



OUR LAST TRIP IN 19 

reached Shrapnel Corner where we turned east 
towards Zillebeke. At Transport Farm, to the 
south of Zillebeke Lake, we were met by the guides 
of the 7th Battalion from whom we were taking 
over. From this point each company advanced 
separately with its own guides. The night was 
dark, illumined only by the flares from the front 
line which swept in a large semi-circle to right and 
left. The flares threw into relief the broken and 
twisted stumps of trees and the uneven sand -bag 
parapets of the trenches. The night was very still 
except for the occasional crash of a hand grenade 
or the crack of a rifle. 

We moved along the open road until the rising 
ground brought us in line with some of the lead from 
one of Fritz's " typewriters " which was traversing 
that part of the scenery. We " flopped " in the 
ditch a couple of times and then turned to the left 
between Observatory Ridge and Maple Copse. 
Shortly after this we entered the communication 
trench which took us to the front line. 

The ordinary trench is narrow enough for a man 
wearing full equipment, but when a relief is going 
on the trench is filled with men loaded down like 
pack mules, waiting to go out as soon as the relief 
is completed. We bumped and squeezed our way 
along to the accompaniment of many ejaculations 
never heard in Sunday School. At length we came 
to the section of trench we were to occupy. It was 
on the extreme right of the Third Division. 



20 CAPTURED 



During the day Lt.-Col. Ussher, accompanied by 
his adjutant, Capt. Symons, and all the company 
commanders, had gone over the whole line and each 
knew thoroughly the peculiarities of the parts of the 
line with which he had most to do. A non-com- 
missioned officer from each company, the machine 
gun section, etc., had also gone in ahead to take over 
trench stores — a supply of such articles as shovels, 
rubber boots, wiring gloves, ammunition, hand 
grenades, etc. Thus everything was in readiness 
for a quick relief when we arrived. 

In our part of the line we were met by our com- 
pany commander, Lieut. Cockshutt, and our Com- 
pany Sergeant-Major who superintended the dis- 
tribution of the men and arranged reliefs for each 
sentry post. Each man was shown his alarm post, 
and at these particular points every man " stood 
to " while the relief was going on. At length the 
message " Relief Completed " was passed down the 
line, and the men of the 7th Battalion heaved a sigh 
of satisfaction and left the trenches. After a final 
inspection by the company commander, the order 
" Stand Down " was given and all but the sentries 
on duty, the trench officer, and trench non-commis- 
sioned officer, sought out a spot in a dug-out, or 
a hole in the side of the support trench, in which to 
stretch their weary legs. 

Our home, which was known as an elephant dug- 
out, was about eight feet square, and was roofed 
over with very heavy corrugated steel in the form of 



OUR LAST TRIP IN 21 

an arch, each corrugation being about eight inches 
broad. This steel roof was very strong and served 
to support a large amount of earth and sandbags 
covered over with a detonating layer of broken 
rock, so that in case of a direct hit the shell would 
explode on the outside rather than the inside of the 
dug-out. The door consisted of a wooden frame 
sunk in the wall of sandbags which closed the en- 
trance. At the top hung a blanket soaked in 
chemicals and rolled up in a convenient position 
to be dropped to close the door in case of a gas 
attack. Inside there was just room to stand up. 
There were two beds made of wire netting stretched 
over a wooden frame. In the centre was a small 
rough table where we did all our work and ate our 
meals, sitting on the edge of the beds. It was the 
first time we had had such a good dug-out, and we 
took great pride in hanging up our equipment on 
nails driven into the sandbags w'hich closed up the 
far end of the arch. There was plenty of room, as 
on this last tour in the trenches there were only 
three officers in " A " Company, Lieut. Cockshutt, 
Lieut. Wells and myself. One was always on duty, 
so that the other two could each occupy a bed and 
snatch a little very necessary sleep. 



CHAPTER II 

The Day Before 

The morning of June 1st broke bright and clear. 
Those of us who were off duty spent our time in 
a thorough inspection of the new trenches which 
were excellently built. They were very dry and 
had more head cover than the old trenches up in 
Sanctuary Wood. The fire step was square and 
solid and not crumbling away as in many of the 
other trenches we had taken over. The general 
system consisted of two lines about twenty-five 
yards apart — the front line contained the fire bays 
separated by heavy traverses to localise the effect 
of a direct hit; the second line contained all the 
dug-outs, and it was here that the men remained 
when not actively on duty in the front line. Three 
communicating trenches joined these two lines on 
our company frontage. The second line was a more 
or less straight trench without any bays or fire 
steps, and was really used as a communication 
trench to move the men from one part of the front 
line to another without the necessity of their pass- 
ing along the front line. The brigade machine gun 
company had its guns mounted in excellent em- 
placements commanding our front, and also the gap 

22 



THE DAY BEFORE 23 

on our right which separated us from the Second 
Division and which was patrolled only at night. 

While investigating these machine gun emplace- 
ments I discovered Lieut. A. W. Sirae, of the 8th 
Brigade Machine Gun Company, who had formerly 
been with me in the 35th Battalion. This was the 
first time we had met since leaving England, and 
we had many things to talk about. We sat down 
in a sunny spot of the trench, propped our backs 
against the parados, filled our pipes and enjoyed 
a pleasant half hour. The day was very quiet. 
Nothing disturbed us except an occasional salvo of 
whiz-bangs, which are as harmless as a bottle of 
milk if you stand flat against the front face of the 
trench. They are very annoying, however, if you 
are trying to snatch a little sleep in your dug-out. 

Talking of sleep reminds me of an incident which 
happened one time when we were in the old trenches 
at the Appendix. The officers' dug-out consisted 
of a fire bay roofed over with a piece of corrugated 
galvanised iron, sprinkled with about two inches of 
dirt. The parapet, which was our only protection 
from frontal fire, was hardly bullet proof. The 
roof leaked like a sieve and one of Fritz's grenades, 
thrown into No Man's Land, shook so much dirt 
down on your face that you imagined you had swal- 
lowed a potato patch. 

One of our officers had just entered this palatial 
residence one day and stretched himself out for a 
short siesta on a downy couch consisting of a few 



24 CAPTUKED 



empty sand bags laid on the hard earth fire step, 
which was about one and a half feet wide, when 
Fritz decided to throw over a few "beer kegs" 
(Minnenwerfers). We got forty of them in about 
twenty minutes. The last one landed plumb in the 
centre of the trench just beside the officers' dug- 
out. It made a hole about twenty feet across, 
twelve feet deep, and buried three of our men alive. 
We eventually managed to dig them out, however, 
unwounded but shell-shocked. It was at this mo- 
ment that the officer, who had gone blissfully to 
sleep, emerged from the so-called dug-out, rubbed 
his eyes and muttered : " Say, boys, what's going 
on? I thought I heard something." He was the 
soundest sleeper I ever knew. 

About sunset one of our observation balloons 
broke loose and started to drift over the German 
lines. The occupants had descended in their para- 
chute, and our "Archies" (anti-aircraft guns) 
were doing their best to destroy it before it landed 
in German territory. The Germans, thinking it 
might still be occupied, also shelled it. There must 
have been thousands of rounds of ammunition ex- 
pended on this one balloon. The sky was white 
with puffs of smoke. Just as it disappeared from 
view we saw a German aeroplane go up and finish 
it off. 

After supper I was sitting in the dug-out writing 
home by the light of a flickering candle, when I 
was informed that there was a corporal outside 



THE DAY BEFORE 25 

who wanted to see me. He turned out to be Bom- 
bardier " Chuck " Gibson who was with the sixty- 
pound " Tock Emma " (Trench Mortar) Battery lo- 
cated on our frontage. We had a long talk over 
the games of bowls he, Ken Douglas, Howard 
Brown, Doug. Addison and I used to have in To- 
ronto. All these boys were either in England or 
France. " Chuck " promised to bring Howard 
Brown, who happened also to be in the front line 
with the " Tock Emmas/' over to see me the next 
day. He told me of a " strafe " they were putting 
on next morning about 8.30 and I promised to go 
over and observe for them. Unfortunately, this 
little party never came off. The next day I w T as 
so busy I never saw " Chuck." He was killed at 
his gun, which fired until it was knocked out. 
Howard Brown was taken prisoner. 

We all seemed in a reminiscent mood that eve- 
ning. Harvey Cockshutt and I spent a pleasant 
hour, after " Chuck " left, discussing our plans for 
after the war. This is the most cheering thing one 
can do when in the trenches, and, outside of the 
business of killing Huns, is the favourite talk 
amongst the soldiers. Poor old Harvey's dreams 
were never to be realised. He, too, died doing his 
duty like the brave fellow that he was. It was 
recognised throughout the 4th C. M. R. that he was 
one of our finest officers. 

At 11 P. M. that night, when I was on duty and 
patrolling the trench, I noticed that a whiz-bang 



26 CAPTURED 



had set fire to the dried sand bags on the top of 
one of the dug-outs. I considered that the occu- 
pants had a personal interest in this little affair 
so I aroused them and we got to work with shovels. 
Fritz thought we were celebrating Guy Fawkes' 
night a little early in the season and decided to 
break up the party with machine gun fire. How- 
ever, we managed to extinguish the flames without 
any casualties. 

At 12 o'clock I woke the officer who was to go 
on duty after me and lay down to sleep until 4 
o'clock. 



CHAPTER III 
June 2nd 

At 4 a. M., June 2nd, 1916, 1 went on duty again. 
Dawn was preparing to break and we all stood to 
in the front line. Just before dawn was the fa- 
vourite time for the Boches to pull off a surprise 
attack, but we were always ready for them. We 
remained on guard till it was quite daylight and 
then, as trench officer, it was my duty to issue the 
rum. A little of this "fire water" is the finest 
thing in the world when you are chilled through 
after a long night spent in your clothes. It wards 
off many a cold and starts the blood circulating 
freely again. The only other way this could be 
accomplished would be by exercise. Anyone was 
welcome to go out in. No Man's Land for an early 
morning run, but this alternative was not popular, 
it being undoubtedly a more or less unhealthy form 
of sport. 

When the rum issue was completed, "Stand 
Down" was given. Everything was running 
smoothly. The sentries on duty gazed steadfastly 
through their periscopes and the runners sat or 
lay, always within kicking distance of the sentry, 
so as to be able to warn the occupants of that par- 
ticular fire bay in case of an attack. The other 

27 



28 CAPTURED 



men busied themselves tidying up the trenches in 
preparation for the inspection by the Divisional 
Commander, General Mercer, and our Brigadier, 
General Williams, which was to take place that 
morning. A large party had been working all 
night repairing a gap in the parapet blown in by 
a Minnenwerfer and which we had to pass on the 
run to avoid being sniped from Hill 60. Another 
day party was busy filling sandbags under cover, 
in preparation for further work next night. I 
spent some time with my Platoon Sergeant com- 
pleting in my roll book the details regarding 
the new men who had been attached to my pla- 
toon. 

At 6 o'clock I went off duty, entered the dug-out, 
slipped off my equipment, put my steel helmet on 
the table and settled down for an hour or two of 
sleep. At 6.30 I was up again to see Col. Ussher 
and Capt. Jack Symons who had come to make a 
preparatory inspection of the trenches. As they 
went away I bade good-bye, for the last time, to 
Jack, who was my brother-in-law. 

At a few minutes to 8 o'clock breakfast was an- 
nounced and our " batman " came in from the lit- 
tle cookhouse in the dug-out across the trench, 
bearing a large tin plate of beautiful fried eggs 
and bacon and some prunes. This, with the addi- 
tion of a little coffee, was the excellent meal we 
were just about to taste when — crash ! Hell was 
let loose. Shells of all sizes came hurtling through 



JUNE 2nd 29 



the air, raining in on us from all sides. We 
slipped on our steel helmets, left that lovely break- 
fast and rushed outside to see how serious the 
show might be. We had suffered heavy bombard- 
ments before but we at once saw that this was the 
biggest we had ever been in. Harvey Cockshutt, 
always thinking of the men, issued the order to 
take every one into the front line, where he de- 
cided the bombardment was not quite so heavy. 
In a few seconds every man was lining the fire 
trench. The shells continued to rain in on us 
from every direction. The Boches, as we found 
out later, had turned every gun around the Ypres 
salient on the frontage occupied by the 3rd Can- 
adian Division. We received almost as many 
shells from the rear flanks, as we did from the 
front. These, of course, we could not alwavs see 
coming, but wherever we looked towards the Ger- 
man lines we could see " Minnies " rolling over and 
over in the air on their way to greet us. These 
were quite easy to dodge when they came one at 
a time. All you had to do was to watch where 
they were going to light and dodge around the 
traverse into the next bay. You might be knocked 
down or even buried, but the effect of the explo- 
sion of a " Minnie " is very local although it makes 
an awful mess of your trench. 

We had the men distributed evenly along the 
front line. In addition to the sentry on duty at 
the periscope in almost every bay, we posted fur- 



30 CAPTUKED 



ther sentries gazing up to the front and right and 
left watching for " Minnies." They gave no alarm 
unless there was going to be a direct hit in their 
own bay, when everyone was warned and dashed 
around the traverse. Unfortunately, owing to the 
fact that they were coming so thick, many a man 
dashed around the traverse to escape the explosion 
of one Minnenwerfer and ran directly into that of 
another. 

By 10 o'clock the bombardment had been so ef- 
fective that our front line was practically de- 
stroyed and a large portion of our men were wiped 
out. Harvey Cockshutt sent for me and told me 
to take about half of the men who were left — 
amounting to some twenty — to the support trench 
on our left. We could not move along the front 
line so we jumped up on the parados and made a 
dash for it overland. We gained the trench, with- 
out a casualty, but found that it, too, was in a sad 
state. We were moving along to the left when 
suddenly a large shell or " Minnie,' ' I don't know 
which, landed right in the middle of my little party 
and wiped them all out with the exception of four 
others and myself in the front, and perhaps one or 
two in the rear whom I never saw again. 

We five moved along a short distance till we found 
a short angle in the trench which had somehow or 
other escaped the attention of the German artil- 
lery. Here I collected a few men from " C " Com- 
pany which was on our left, until eventually we 



JUNE 2nd 31 



numbered about ten. Had we been spared until 
the attack came off, the ten of us would probably 
have succeeded in pumping a considerable amount 
of lead into the advancing Huns. 

By this time we had begun to realise that this 
was no casual " strafe " but the preparation for 
an attack. A German aeroplane, flying very low, 
noticed this little bit of undestroyed trench. We 
feigned death. Any man who made a move was 
properly cursed, as our only hope of being unmo- 
lested was that this air-man should think we were 
already dead. However, he decided to take no 
chances, and directed the fire of what seemed to us 
like about forty batteries, as well as several Min- 
nenwerfers, on to our one little bit of trench. At 
one moment I looked up and saw three " Minnies " 
coming down directly on top of us. We all kissed 
ourselves good-bye, and hoped for the best, but 
none of them made a direct hit. One of the three 
landed in the interior angle, and the other two on 
the exterior faces of the angle made by the bend 
in the trench, and all exploded simultaneously. 
Everyone who had not already been wounded, with 
the exception of a stretcher-bearer named Barclay 
and myself, got it then. We were all half buried, 
but we managed to crawl out. 

Barclay and I put field dressings on the wounded 
men and I gave morphia tablets — which all the 
officers carried — to those who were in great pain. 
There were only three besides myself who could 



32 CAPTURED 



move, and I decided to act as Mr. Cockshutt would 
have wished under the circumstances, and take 
these men to a shell-proof trench in Mount Sorrel 
which was commonly known as the Tunnel. We 
had been given orders that in case of a heavy bom- 
bardment, this was where we were to take our men. 
In order to get there we had to go down a short 
communication trench known as Canada Street, 
but we had not gone more than a few yards before 
we discovered that Canada Street existed no 
longer. We crawled overland, following the line 
of the trench by the bits of " A " frame and revet- 
ting material which were protruding from the 
earth. We soon came to the German barrage, 
which extended all the way along our frontage just 
in the rear of the trenches, and prevented any pos- 
sibility of reinforcements reaching us. We saw 
that it was hopeless to get through this at the time, 
and decided to lie there until the barrage might 
lessen sufficiently to enable us to make a dash for it. 
I particularly wanted to reach the Tunnel, as it 
was there that battalion headquarters were located, 
and it was necessary to report that our trenches 
were destroyed and that there were no men left to 
defend the position when the attack should come. 
As we lay there we were soon located by a German 
machine gunner who ripped off two or three belts 
at us. We were in full view with practically no 
cover; the bullets cracked all around us and the 
dirt flew in our faces. We had been under fire 



JUNE 2nd 33 



many a time before and had often felt afraid. Ac- 
cording to the old saying, any man who says he is 
not afraid under fire is either a fool or a liar. 
But none of us had ever experienced anything so 
terrific as this. We knew we were going to be 
killed, and we had got to the stage where it did not 
seem to matter whether we got it then, or a few 
minutes later. I believe it was this feeling that 
had rendered all the men so cool and collected and 
I was surprised to see, during that morning, that 
some of the new men who were under fire for the 
first time were just as cool as those who were old 
hands at the game. Of course, they had the ad- 
vantage of not knowing how dangerous a shell 
might be, whereas the others had seen so many of 
their friends " Go West " that they could appre- 
ciate the danger more fully. 

I don't know positively, but I believe that the 
machine gunner got two of the men that were with 
me — they were only a short distance away and I 
never saw them rise from the ground when the 
bombardment was over. As we lay there, hoping 
the Boche machine gunner was not a very good 
shot, we distracted ourselves by watching the 
"Crumps" (large high explosive shells) light 
around us. These you can often see during the last 
hundred feet of their flight. They are travelling 
so fast that they have the appearance of being 
very much shorter than they really are, although! 
their diameter does not appear altered. It was" 



34 CAPTURED 



fascinating to watch them shooting in at all angles, 
and to see the dirt and bits of trench fly in the 
air as the terrific explosion came. 

Suddenly, about one o'clock, we were aware of 
the fact that the bombardment had ceased. At 
first we did not know what had happened. Our 
own artillery had also ceased fire. It was still as 
the tomb of death. There was not even the crack 
of a rifle to break the silence. It was all so strange, 
after the terrific row that had been going on all 
morning, that we did not know whether we were 
alive or dead. I actually did believe for a minute 
that I had gone to heaven, and that that was the 
reason there was no noise. I probably flattered 
myself regarding my future destination but that 
was the feeling I had. 

My conjectures on this subject were rudely dis- 
pelled by the most peculiar sensation I had ever 
experienced. The ground had started to sway 
from side to side like a ship on a rough sea. It 
was not a jerky motion but a gentle, slow move- 
ment, and the ground we were lying on rose, what 
seemed to me, about ten or fifteen feet. Up till this 
moment there had been no noise. I looked around 
and exclaimed : " My God, Barclay, there goes a 
mine." 

Precisely at that instant there was the most 
deafening roar I had ever heard. Just under the 
place where we had left those badly wounded men 
a huge mine went up. We could clearly see the 



JUNE 2nd 35 



stumps of trees, bits of trench and parts of what 
had once been soldiers, soaring upwards to a tre- 
mendous height. The air was filled with such a 
mass of earth that for a few moments it was almost 
as dark as night. Gradually the ground we were 
lying on settled down, and a deluge of stones, tim- 
ber and earth fell around us. I looked up and 
saw a large piece of timber coming down, which 
seemed to have picked me out as a good soft spot 
on which to land. It was no use trying to dodge 
it. I had not time; but even if I had, one spot 
seemed about as good as another. With a terrific 
thud it struck me on my steel helmet, which un- 
doubtedly saved my life. 

I don't know how long I was unconscious, but 
when I opened my eyes Barclay was there beside 
me, untouched by some miracle. I could not move 
hand or foot and was fully convinced that my neck 
was broken. I told Barclay I was done in and 
that he had better get to Observatory Ridge if he 
could, as the Germans would probably attack in a 
moment, and that we would undoubtedly take up 
a position on the ridge with any supports that 
might be coming up. Barclay, however, stayed 
with me a few minutes and I soon found that, with 
his assistance, I could get up and stagger along. 
My steel helmet had been driven down on my head 
so far that it had torn my scalp in several places, 
and I could hardly see for the blood streaming 
down my face. Barclay examined my head and 



36 CAPTURED 



found that the wounds were not serious, and we 
continued at a little better pace. We were walk- 
ing over the ruins of the old trenches and not a 
living man was to be seen anywhere. 

We came to a sort of lean-to dug-out which had 
received a direct hit, and in the wreckage I found 
Mr. Wells with his feet pinned down by revetting 
material. With him were one or two dead and 
very seriously wounded men. Mr. Wells himself 
was very much dazed. He had had his ear-drums 
so badly damaged that he could hardly hear me 
when I spoke to him. I had enough strength left 
to release his legs, and we decided to cross the little 
stretch of marshy ground which lay between us and 
Observatory Ridge. We were staggering along to- 
gether when the sharp crack! crack! crack! of a 
German " typewriter " caused us to look around. 
For the first time we saw the long lines of ad- 
vancing Huns. We knew we did not have much 
chance but we kept on. The bullets were kicking 
up the dirt all around us, and it seemed to us as 
if they went between our legs and under our arms 
without touching us. We knew if we could gain 
Observatory Ridge we would be alright. But this 
was not to be. 

We went down together. Wells got it through 
the side and at first I did not know where I was 
wounded. I felt as if someone had struck me 
across the back of the neck with a crow bar. I 
rolled over and found that my left hand was flop- 



JUNE 2nd 37 



ping uselessly at my side. I knew that my arm 
was broken. We had both been pretty weak before 
we were hit but this was the last straw. We just 
had enough strength to crawl into a shell hole on 
the edge of which we were lying. 

Our artillery opened fire and shrapnel started to 
burst all around us. There was the occasional 
crack of a rifle from Observatory Ridge, but our 
hearts sank when we noticed how intermittent the 
fire was. We knew that no large body of supports 
had been able to get up alive through the German 
barrage fire. We hoped that every crack of a rifle 
meant a Hun down and we cursed our luck that 
we had not had time to go back to our dug-out for 
our revolvers. We might have accounted for one 
or two but if we had, this story would probably 
never have been written. 

As we lay there in the shell hole several groups 
of Huns passed quite close to us. They were ad- 
vancing slowly over the swampy uneven ground 
which had been torn up by shell fire, and were 
fortunately paying more attention to where they 
stepped than to us. Every man had his rifle slung 
across his back. They knew that there would be 
no one left to offer any resistance. They wore a 
look of pride and confidence which almost ap- 
proached joy. We cursed them under our breath 
and thought of what we might have done to them 
if the bombardment had not wiped out our men so 
completely. They were wearing their full equip- 



38 CAPTURED 



merit and, in addition, each man carried a long- 
handled spade slung across his back. Now and 
then we would see an " Unteroffizier " examining a 
map as he advanced, evidently figuring on a new 
line of trenches. 

We feigned death whenever a Hun passed close 
to us, but we watched them through our half -closed 
eyes, because we wanted to follow their actions and 
hoped, later on, to be able to regain our own lines. 
We knew they had not gone far past us because, 
from a few yards away, smoke signals were being 
shot into the air. These were beautiful to watch. 
They were fired from a large pistol, probably simi- 
lar to the Very pistol which we used for sending 
up flares. One solid ball of smoke rose about a 
hundred feet in the air and then burst into two 
smaller balls which flew off at a tangent. This 
was evidently the signal that their objective had 
been reached. 

The stream of advancing Huns stopped and at 
last we were able to pay more attention to our- 
selves. I managed with one hand to get Wells' 
tunic undone and to pull his bloody shirt aside to 
examine his wound. He could not tell exactly 
where he was hit but thought it was through the 
stomach. I was glad to be able to tell him that 
this was not the case. I fixed him up as well as 
possible. He was very weak from shock and, by a 
little shifting, we managed to get him into a more 



JUNE 2nd 39 



or less comfortable position in the bottom of the 
shell hole. 

I was in a filthy state. My left sleeve and the 
left side of my tunic and breeches were soaked with 
blood. Wells helped me pull up my sleeve and 
I examined my wound. I found that the hole 
where the bullet had come out was about three 
inches in diameter. It had evidently struck one 
or both bones, flattened itself out, and, on emerg- 
ing, had torn out pieces of bone, flesh and tendons 
and the blood was flowing freely. If I had not felt 
so weak and sick I would have examined with in- 
terest the interior workings of a man's fore-arm. 
/My first thought was of the lectures in first aid 
given by Capt. Stanley Mills of the 35th Battalion. 
I knew that the correct thing to do was to put on 
a splint. Capt. Mills had given us great scope in 
the selection of splints but, unfortunately, none of 
the articles recommended were to be had in this 
one little shell hole. The only thing I could find 
was a tiny, mossy sprig hardly strong enough to 
support a canary.\ I took out my field dressing 
and, with one hand and my teeth, did the best I 
could to stop the flow of blood and bind the little 
twig to my arm. I happened to have a large silk 
handkerchief which I knotted into a sling, and then 
sought a comfortable position in which to await 
developments. 
Wells produced from his pocket some gelatine 



40 CAPTUEED 



wafers of a soothing drug which we both took, and 
I brought out my flask of whisky, from which we 
each took a pull. We felt better, and stealthily lit 
a cigarette, carefully blowing the smoke down to 
the ground. We expected a bomb any minute, but 
as this did not come, we continued smoking until we 
had finished the few cigarettes I had. We must 
have slept for some time, for the first thing I re- 
member after that was the fact that it was getting 
dusk. This was the moment we had been waiting 
for. If the Germans had not completely cut off 
our retreat, we hoped to crawl back home in the 
dark. I stealthily put my head above the edge of 
the shell hole and looked around. My heart sank 
within me. There was a brand new German trench 
almost completed, and fairly bristling with Huns. 
It was only a few yards away, but it lay between 
us and Blighty. Had we been stronger we might 
have been able to jump the trench and make a dash 
for it. It would have been a million to one chance, 
but as it was, we were so weak through the loss 
of blood that we could never have crossed this new 
German trench, had there been no one there to 
hinder us. 



CHAPTER IV 

Captured 

The Hun who gathered us in was a rough look- 
ing chap with a close-shaven head. He wore his 
little round hat well down on his forehead. He 
was not a bad sort of chap, and spoke English 
fairly well; in fact, he had been a waiter in an 
English hotel for some time. He expressed great 
satisfaction at the thought of going back with us, 
as he knew that this would mean so many hours 
of comparative safety for him. He asked us if we 
had any arms. We handed over our clasp knives 
and told him these were the only weapons we had. 
He said : " You are English officers. I take your 
word." And so we moved on. The other prison- 
ers had been taken back long before this, and as we 
were alone we escaped the official examination and 
search. 

As we slowly picked our way across what had 
once been our system of defence, we were horrified 
to note the havoc that had been wrought by the 
bombardment. Nowhere did we see a piece of 
trench that had not been completely obliterated. 
There were dead everywhere. In most cases they 
were not lying on the top of the ground, but we 

41 



42 CAPTURED 



could see legs and arms protruding here and there. 
Dug-outs that we had thought quite safe had been 
crushed in like cardboard boxes. I was glad when 
we reached what had once been No Man's Land 
and had left this horrible scene behind. 

About half way to the German front line we 
entered a new communication trench which was 
being dug feverishly to join up their new trench 
with the old system. I had never before been in 
a German trench and I gazed with awe at the won- 
derful revetting work which was to be seen every- 
where. The walls of the front line were built of 
logs laid one on top of the other. The fire bays, 
fire steps, traverses, etc., were as carefully and 
strongly built as though they had been com- 
pleted before the war began. The communication 
trenches were remarkably deep and just as well 
constructed. At short distances they were cov- 
ered over by logs, forming shelters under which 
men could take cover in case of shell fire. Their 
communication wires were neatly fastened to in- 
sulators screwed into the log walls and had evi- 
dently been put there to stay. In one or two 
places only did we notice the effect of our own 
artillery fire. Even a direct hit seemed to do very 
little damage to these trenches, which were so 
strongly built. 

The whole of the German system of defence at 
this point was constructed in a wooded section of 
country which sloped gently down toward Menin, 



CAPTUKED 43 



When we reached their second line of defence 
we saw a large signboard painted in a peculiar 
manner, which we learned later was to be found 
at every junction of a communication trench with 
the second line, and was a guide in case a man did 
not know exactly where he was in the system. We 
found similar signboards painted in different col- 
ours when we reached the third line. At these 
junction points we could see the entrances to large 
dug-outs evidently full of men, and at the mouth 
of which there was always a sentry posted, who 
acted as a traffic control. We were going very 
slowly on account of our w T eak condition, but we 
soon overtook one of our own men who seemed 
to be making his way along the trench alone. He 
had a horrible wound in his thigh, part of the 
flesh having been shot away, but no one was there 
to carry him. He was forced to make his way 
along as best he could, clutching at the sides of the 
trench. We wanted to stay with him and try and 
help him, but our guard would not allow this. He 
was evidently thinking of his own skin and wanted 
to get out of the range of our artillery, which was 
dropping shells along the communication trench. 
We met several parties of men going towards the 
front line, evidently to take over the trenches 
which had been newly dug. 

They all seemed in mortal terror of a shell and 
whenever one came screaming overhead they would 
either "flop" in the trench or rush for cover. 



44 CAPTURED 



We had become more or less accustomed to artil- 
lery fire. We had had plenty of it all that day, 
and the few shells they were dropping there did 
not appear to us as serious. We could not help 
smiling at those Huns and hoped that all the rest 
of them had just as bad nerves. 

After what seemed an eternity we entered a 
dressing station, which was an enormous concrete 
dug-out with a long passage down the centre and 
about four rooms on either side. After waiting 
some time we were taken to a room where two 
German doctors in white coats were working on 
German wounded. One of them slit up my sleeve, 
dressed my wound and applied a wire splint. He 
gave me a white cotton sling and asked me if I 
would like a drink of coffee. Our conversation 
was in German. If I could have said it in his lan- 
guage, I would have asked, " Does a duck swim? " 
I was never so thirsty in my life. I had had noth- 
ing to eat or drink since the day before, and when 
he handed me a large mug of acorn coffee without 
sugar or milk I finished it off in about three gulps 
and held out the mug for more. It was the finest 
thing I had ever tasted. 

After one more drink I was sent from this room 
to another, where I awaited Wells. I discovered 
that the doctor had taken my silk handkerchief, 
which had saved me an endless amount of torture 
in walking down the communication trench. I 
tried to get it back but was unable to do so. 



CAPTUKED 45 



Before long we continued our dreary march. We 
had not gone far when we came to a huge fence 
about 20 feet high, constructed of logs, upon the top 
of which we could see numerous machine gun em- 
placements. This fence was in front of a large 
engineers' dump and was evidently used as a 
screen, so that the men could work behind it by 
electric light without being observed from our 
lines. We at length emerged from the trenches 
and the wood. The first thing I noticed was a 
white cross bearing the word " Englander." It 
was probably some poor devil who had fallen in 
the second battle of Ypres. 

We were taken into a second dressing station 
which was even more elaborate than the first. It 
was built of concrete covered with ten or twelve 
feet of earth, on which grass was growing. The 
dressing station was not underground, but the floor 
was about six feet below the ground level. In 
front were steps leading down to a small paved 
courtyard on which stretcher cases were laid, while 
awaiting the attention of the doctors inside. 

Here I saw a Canadian captain lying on a 
stretcher with his head wrapped up in bloody band- 
ages. I could not see his face for bandages and 
unfortunately he was unconscious, so I could not 
find out who he was. At this dressing station we 
were given an injection against tetanus, and a tag 
was tied on to us indicating this fact, the nature 
and date of our wounds, and the treatment given. 



46 CAPTURED 



A second and more substantial splint was put on 
my arm. When the doctor had finished with us 
we went outside and sat down to await the de- 
parture of the small engineer train which was to 
take us further on our journey. The Hun who 
had brought us down received a certificate to the 
effect that he had turned over his prisoners. He 
said good-bye to us and regretted the fact that he 
had to go back to the front line again, from which 
he seemed to have doubts about returning. We 
breathed a heartfelt prayer that he would not, nor 
any of the others with him. 



CHAPTER y 

Through Belgium to Germany 

VFor half an hour or so we sat by the dressing 
station wondering what our fate was to be. Our 
minds inadvertently wandered back to the hours 
of strain that we had just come through, and as 
in a dream the horrible sights we had witnessed 
passed rapidly before our eyes. J We could not help 
thinking of all the men we knew so well who had 
gone West, and wondering what had happened to 
our friends in other parts of the line. It did not 
seem possible that the whole Regiment, and per- 
haps the Division, had suffered such terrible losses 
as our own Company had endured. 

We were rudely awakened from our reverie by 
being ordered to climb into a truck of the little 
train standing on the tracks of the engineers' rail- 
way close by. The train consisted of a small en- 
gine and four cars, which were about five feet wide 
and ten, feet long, and closed in to the height of 
two feet. On either side was a wooden bench. It 
was only a step from the ground up, but that was 
more than I could manage in my weak condition. 
Two German officers who had been standing close 
by saw my predicament and gave me a hoist up. 
I was so grateful for this little attention that I 

47 



48 CAPTURED 



gave them my gas masks as souvenirs. I expected 
to have them taken from me so did not mind giv- 
ing them to someone who had been kind to me. 

Before long the train was loaded and we started 
off for parts unknown. Sitting across from Wells 
and myself was a little fair German who was in 
a terrible state of shell shock. On either side of 
him was a big burly chap holding him by the arm. 
At frequent intervals the little fellow would roll 
his eyes and writhe in a frantic attempt to escape 
from his guards. We could not help feeling sorry 
for him, but were glad to know that our artillery 
was giving them a little of their own back. 

There were also a few slightly wounded Ger- 
mans on the train and some others evidently going 
back on duty of some sort. They seemed highly 
pleased about it and lit up their pipes and cigars. 
One man sitting next to us was apparently inter- 
ested, and seeing by the looks on our faces that we 
were dying for a smoke gave us each a cigar. We 
murmured, " Danke Schon," and lit up. They w T ere 
filthy weeds, probably made of cabbage leaf chem- 
ically treated, but they tasted good to us. Three 
of these are issued to the German soldiers as part 
of their daily rations. 

It was quite dark as the little train wandered 
slowly back past numerous gun positions, from 
which there came unceasingly the long red tongues 
of flame as the guns fired. 

We often turned around to take a look at the 



THROUGH BELGIUM TO GERMANY 49 

place on which the artillery was directing its fire. 
The ground sloped gradually up to the front line 
trenches. The whole sky-line was brilliantly lit by 
the flash of exploding shells, illuminating flares 
and red and green S. O. S. signal lights, which were 
continually going up all along the line. We knew 
by this that our artillery was pounding the new 
German trenches, and that Fritz had the " wind 
up." The display was wonderful to watch, but 
we knew only too well what a terrible night it 
meant for all those in the front line. 

About midnight we arrived at what we judged 
to be Menin. Here we found some more of our 
wounded and were all piled into a motor bus. We 
were again seated on wooden benches and packed 
in like sardines. Near the door were two or three 
German sentries with fixed bayonets. 

The engine of the bus was so weak that it could 
not start without assistance. Several German sol- 
diers were ordered out to lend a hand and, with 
the aid of many guttural oaths, they at last got the 
old Ark moving. The driver dared not slow down 
for fear he would never get started again and we 
bumped along over railway tracks and ruts in the 
road. The continual jarring gave rise to many a 
muffled groan from those inside. 

Fortunately the journey across the town was not 
long and we soon arrived at the main railway sta- 
tion. As we passed along the platform we came 
to the half -open door of the main waiting-room in 



50 CAPTURED 



which we could see more of our men. My heart 
jumped with excitement. I knew that if we got 
in there, some of them might be able to give me 
some information about my brother-in-law, and 
also some of my other friends in the Regiment. 
However, we were not allowed to stop. We con- 
cluded that these men were less severely wounded, 
and that the German mania for system and classi- 
fication would not permit of our being mixed with 
them. We were taken to a small wooden building 
filled with tables and benches, where we were told 
to sit down. We sighed with relief for we saw 
we were to be given food. 

The room was lit by electric light and for the 
first time we were able to look around and see who 
were with us. Sitting next me was an officer of 
the 1st 0. M. R., who was badly wounded in the 
head. On the other side was Wells and not far 
away, Barclay, whom I had not seen since shortly 
after the mine went up. Across the table was a 
man with his jaw badly shattered. They were a 
sad looking crew, covered with bloody bandages, 
and very pale. Nobody spoke much. They were 
all thinking too hard of how different it might 
have been. It was midnight, and, if they had been 
picked up by Canadian stretcher bearers, by this 
time they would probably have been in England. 

Soon there was a clatter of tin dishes and the 
food appeared. We were to have our first taste 
of German war rations. We discovered that there 



THEOUGH BELGIUM TO GEEMANY 51 

had been no reason to get excited over it. Each 
man was given a cup of acorn coffee without sugar 
or milk, of course, and a small chunk of black soggy 
bread. It was the first food we had had in thirty 
hours and we were ravenous. I sympathised with 
the poor chap with the shattered jaw, but that 
didn't appease his appetite. What wouldn't he 
have given for an egg-nog and a straw! 

When the banquet was over we all searched our 
pockets for cigarettes. Those who had them broke 
them up into two, or even three pieces, so that 
everyone might have a smoke. I racked my brains 
and at length produced the sentence, " Durfen wir 
Cigaretten kaufen?" (May we buy some ciga- 
rettes ? ) , but I gathered from the reply to this that 
the United Cigar Stores of the town didn't stay 
open all night, so we settled down to await the next 
move. 

Fortunately we did not have long to wait. A 
German Feldwebel (Sergeant-Major) appeared in 
the doorway and shouted, " Englander heraus ! " 
(Englishmen, come out). Our little party was 
loaded into a railway carriage dimly lit by a lan- 
tern. Down one side was a narrow passage-way, 
giving access to the eternal wooden bench — this 
time, however, with a back to lean against. Every 
seat was so full that we had to sit up perfectly 
straight. We were awfully tired and wanted to 
curl up somewhere and sleep, but there was no hope 
of that. 



52 CAPTURED 



All night the train crawled along. About 4 a. m. 
it stopped for some time in a large city in Belgium, 
where a few men, judged in a dying condition, 
were put off. We could see the stretchers being 
carried along the platform. This was the first in- 
dication we had that there were other wounded 
prisoners on the train. 

Cold and hungry we watched the dawn break. 
As we lay on sidings in different towns we saw 
trainloads of troops, guns and ammunition on their 
way to the Western Front. Had we not been so 
weak and tired we might have taken a great in- 
terest in all we saw; but as it was, we sat most 
of the time with our eyes half closed, enduring 
our pain as best we could. 

After what seemed an interminable journey, at 
about 4 p.M.y we were ordered out of the train. 
We were lined up and counted. Wells and I, be- 
ing the only officers, were placed at the head of 
the party, which numbered about forty. Like a 
funeral procession we moved out of the station to 
a building close at hand, which turned out to be 
a hospital for German wounded. We were guided 
down the stairs to two rooms in the basement. 
One was devoid of any furniture and had no win- 
dows, while the other had one small window and 
was furnished with a single wooden bench. The 
floors in both rooms were of concrete, and on these 
we were invited to make ourselves comfortable. 

Tike first thing I did was to ask one of the guards 



THROUGH BELGIUM TO GERMANY 53 

if it were possible to buy any cigarettes. He said 
it was, so Wells and I checked up our accounts 
and found we had about thirty francs between us. 
We subscribed ten and told him to do the best he 
could. He got someone to relieve him and shortly 
returned with about six packages of the filthiest 
cigarettes I ever smoked. These we distributed 
amongst the men and everybody was happy once 
more. 

It was here we saw the first signs of the German 
Red Cross^ The men of this branch of the Ger- 
man Army wear a distinctive uniform, of a pe- 
culiar dark grey colour, with the usual red cross 
on the arm. Most of them are kind and as sympa- 
thetic as a Boche can be. 

Two of these Red Cross men came in to see us 
and noticed our lack of comfort. They at once se- 
cured stretchers on which the more seriously 
wounded could lie. During the next four or five 
hours they brought several more stretchers, so that 
eventually most of us were lying down. It was a 
great relief. 

I discovered one man who was shot through the 
hand. He had had no attention except the original 
field dressing applied by himself. The broken 
bones were protruding, and he was suffering 
agony. I got permission to see one of the doctors, 
and, by means of signs and words, asked him if 
this man could not have his wound dressed. He 
said he did not think so but would ask the Ex Chef 



54 CAPTUEED 



Arzt (head doctor). He returned with the infor- 
mation that the man's wound could not be dressed 
till he got to hospital. Evidently we had not yet 
arrived. How we did curse those Huns and wish 
we were in the hands of our own doctors. 

I noticed one of the guards eyeing me curiously 
and at length he came up and extended a small 
pocket mirror. I glanced into it and then realised 
the reason for his interest. I will never forget 
the sight that met my gaze ; my face was one mass 
of clotted blood and mud. I removed my steel 
helmet and felt my head. I couldn't separate my 
hair from the cake which covered it and I was glad 
that no one who loved me (if there were any) could 
see me at that particular minute. My mind ran 
back to the moment when I recovered conscious- 
ness after being hit by the timber from the mine. 
I remembered finding my steel helmet lying beside 
me and automatically jamming it as it was, full of 
dirt, on my bleeding head. I felt an overwhelm- 
ing desire to wash my head and asked for " warmes 
Wasser" (warm water), but the guard thought 
this a privilege only for Germans, and refused. I 
had learned the pass-word from the doctor so told 
him I wanted to see the Chef Arzt. This seemed 
to have the required effect. I was taken to him 
and he reluctantly gave permission. While I was 
there I again enquired about having the man's hand 
dressed, but was told the same story as before. 

About six o'clock we were each given a tin bowl 



THROUGH BELGIUM TO GERMANY 55 



of bean soup and a chunk of black bread. The 
soup was quite thick and nourishing, and we soon 
put it in a safe place as this was the first meal 
we had had all day. A pail of acorn coffee was 
passed around and with a tin mug we dipped out 
what we required. The cigars and liqueurs were 
dispensed with for that evening. After we had 
finished eating we settled back on the stretchers 
for a much needed sleep. Up till then we had felt 
too tired and hungry to sleep, but at last the won- 
derful feeling of drowsiness was coming over us 
all. 

We almost succeeded in forgetting our troubles 
for a little while, but shortly after the meal a Ger- 
man doctor and two assistants came around and 
examined the tags on each man. Very few had 
had an injection against tetanus and were given 
it then. The quantity of serum injected and the 
date were added to the information on the tag. 

While this was going on I had a most peculiar 
conversation with a Red Cross Orderly. He knew 
a few words of English and French, and I a few 
words of French and German. We spoke very 
slowly to each other. Whenever we did not under- 
stand we would try a word in one of the other 
languages. 

This system succeeded beautifully. I can see 
him now, on one knee, beside my stretcher, and can 
recall some of the conversation which ran some- 
thing like this : 



56 CAPTURED 



" How much years haben Sie? " 

(How old are you?) 

" Sieben-und-zwanzig." 

(Twenty-seven.) 

" You are verheiratet? " 

(Are you married?) 

" Ich verstehe nicht." 

(I don't understand.) 

"You are marie?" (married)] 

" Ob, nein." 

(Oh, no.) 

"You are versagt?" 

(Are you engaged?) 

It took some time to find out what this meant. 
He didn't know the French or English for it, but 
by signs he let me know he meant engaged. I said, 
" fiancee," and he remembered the word then and 
nodded, " yes." Well, this was a delicate question 
with me. I hoped I was, but didn't know for sure. 
Rather than go into a long explanation I told him 
I was. He seemed very much pleased, and then 
attacked my family one by one. I was getting a 
little fed up with this so switched him off the fam- 
ily tree on to his life history. At the conclusion 
of an hour we were friends, and he confided to me 
that we were due to leave at eleven o'clock on an- 
other train, and that he was coming with us. I 
saw at once that he would be a good man to stand 
in with, so took pains not to offend him. 

The inside information I had received proved 



THROUGH BELGIUM TO GERMANY 57 



correct and about eleven we were taken to the 
station and again boarded a train. This time 
Wells and I were put in what might have been 
termed the drawing-room of a tenth class Pullman. 
It was a small compartment about six feet square 
with a wooden seat on each side. We at once lay 
down on the seats which were made of nice soft 
wood. We were soon disturbed by a German 
sentry who came in and propped himself up in one 
corner and settled down to watch his dangerous ( ?) 
prisoners. That left room for only one to lie down 
so we decided to take two-hour shifts. My friend 
of the Red Cross was on the train, as he had said, 
and produced a real pillow for which we blessed 
him. 

I I have passed more comfortable nights before 
and since, but that hard bench and the pillow 
seemed like a feather bed to me, and when it was 
my turn to lie down I always felt that Wells just 
twisted the hands of his watch around and woke 
me up. \ 

In the morning the sentry produced a greasy 
looking parcel from which he extracted a chunk 
of black bread, a bit of cheese, and a piece of 
sausage. With the assistance of a clasp knife and 
a great deal of unnecessary noise, he breakfasted. 
After this interesting performance he proceeded to 
fumigate the compartment with the smoke from 
one of his cigars. We enjoyed it all with the ex- 
ception of the imitation of a gas attack. 



58 CAPTURED 



We also were given breakfast consisting of a 
piece of the now familiar black bread and a cup 
of acorn coffee. This was handed into the com- 
partment and we concluded the dining car had 
failed to make connections with our train. 

After breakfast the sentry left us and his place 
was taken by the Red Cross Orderly. He was 
quite pleasant and told us that we were to detrain 
at Aachen (Aix-la-Chapelle) where he would be 
put in hospital. He gave us a German newspaper 
to read, which we did our best to puzzle out, but 
finally gave it up 

Not long after lunch, which was the same as 
breakfast, with the addition of bean soup, we ar- 
rived at Aachen. A German medical officer came 
on board the train. He saw the Red Cross Orderly 
in the compartment with us and roared some un- 
intelligible German at the top of his voice. Our 
little friend looked terrified and jumped off the 
train. Shortly after I saw him standing as stiff 
as a poker while the officer told him off severely, 
probably for being so kind to us. We never saw 
him again except in his official capacity. 

Evidently the German officer didn't like our 
looks for we were told that we could not get off 
there, and shortly afterwards Aachen was left be- 
hind. We were horribly disappointed, but decided 
that we couldn't learn to love that officer and per- 
haps it would be better for us elsewhere. 

The next news I got was that we were going to 



THEOUGH BELGIUM TO GERMANY 59 

Coin. I was not aware that this was the German 
for Cologne. After a long conversation with the 
sentry, I learned that it was a beautiful city on 
the Rhine with a Dom (cathedral) . I didn't know 
what Dom meant and the sentry didn't know any 
French. He kept repeating the word so often that 
I thought him very profane. 

While I was talking to the sentry a fast train 
overtook and passed us like a flash. Swelling out 
his chest, he informed me that this train was go- 
ing over 100 kilometres an hour, and that many 
trains in Germany did that. I knew one particu- 
lar train that didn't and wished to God it would 
hurry, or that they would let us off to walk for a 
while. 

We passed several groups of children who threw 
kisses towards the forward end of the train. We 
wondered why, and poked our heads out of the 
window to find out. We saw that the cars ahead 
were loaded with German wounded. When the 
children saw us they cocked up their chins and 
drew their hands across their necks, indicating the 
pleasant end we would have if they could get at us 
with a knife. 

We saw Russian and French prisoners working 
in the fields, waved to them and received a cheery 
response. 

About 5 p. m. we drew into Cologne, crawled 
across one of the huge bridges over the Rhine and 
into a station. The tracks were some distance 



60 CAPTURED 



above the street, where an interested crowd soon 
gathered to look up at the British prisoners and 
probably curse England. We looked right through 
them and quietly cursed Germany and all the 
Germans. 

On the platform were numerous Red Cross or- 
derlies who took charge of us. We were led to a 
waiting room where we spent another half hour, 
and were then taken outside and loaded into two 
small tram-cars handled by women. We were so 
crowded that half of us had to stand up and hang 
on to the straps. The platforms were filled with 
vicious looking sentries with fixed bayonets, who 
looked as though they wished one of us would try 
and escape so that they could have a good excuse 
for using the business end of the rifle. At that 
particular moment we didn't want to escape; all 
we wanted was to sit down somewhere, anywhere. 

The trams carried us back across the bridge and 
wound their tortuous way through the main streets 
of Cologne. I think the drivers had instructions 
to show us off to the people because I now know 
that we could have come a much shorter way 
than we did. Everything came to a standstill as 
we went by. The crowds stared. A few people 
hissed and booed but there was no violent demon- 
stration of any sort. 

We turned into a side street where the trams 
stopped in front of a stone building set back about 
twenty feet from the other buildings, and with an 



THROUGH BELGIUM TO GERMANY 61 

iron fence across the front. At the gate stood a 
sentry. 

The doors of the building were flung open. Men 
in uniform and others in long white coats came 
rushing out. There was much excitement and 
shouting of orders. 

With bayonets lowered at a convenient angle the 
sentries conducted us past a crowd of awe-struck 
children and through the gate. We had arrived at 
last. 



CHAPTER VI 
Lazarett VI 

Inside was a long hall that ran across the front 
of the building. Opposite the door was a stone 
stairway leading up stairs, and on either side an- 
other leading down to the courtyard and the base- 
ment. Along the hall were rooms with painted 
signs over the doors reading, Chef Arzt, Inspector, 
Polizei Bureau (Police Office), etc. 

We were lined up in the hall and taken in charge 
by the Police Corporal, a short dark man with a 
nasty disposition, who was chewing the butt of a 
cigar. We later on learned to despise this fellow. 

A group of French, English and Russian pa- 
tients gathered round to look at us. This was the 
first excitement they had had in some time and the 
Englishmen were particularly interested. They 
saw glorious opportunities for getting some recent 
news from the front. Very few of them had seen 
the steel helmets which we were wearing. They 
gazed at us in wonder, and well they might, for 
we were a curious looking, muddy lot of almost 
exhausted men. 

We were just as interested in the patients. They 

m 



LAZARETT VI 63 



were all wearing the hospital clothes, consisting 
of a long coat and loose trousers of blue and white 
striped material. The coat had one button at the 
neck and was fastened around the waist like a 
dressing gown with a tape made from the same 
material. On their feet they wore sandal slippers 
which were well named — one had to curl one's toes 
up tight to keep them from slipping off altogether. 
As they were all dressed this way it was hard to 
tell the English from the others. 

The little crowd of spectators was roughly or- 
dered to stand back and the Police Corporal com- 
menced business. He came to Wells and myself 
first as we were on the end of the line. The con- 
versation was again a mixture of French and Ger- 
man. I told him we were officers and asked to be 
put with the other British officers if there were any 
in the hospital. He demanded papers to prove 
that we really were officers. I don't know whether 
or not he expected that we all carried our com- 
missions around in our pockets. I showed him the 
stars and braid on my sleeve but that made no 
impression on him; he wanted written proof. I 
fumbled at the neck of my shirt and produced my 
identification disc, on which was engraved my rank 
and regiment. This seemed to satisfy him and we 
were told to fall out and go upstairs to the officers' 
ward. 

An English sergeant, with his arm in plaster, 
came up to us and asked if he could help us. We 



64 CAPTURED 



accepted his services as guide. He led us up to 
the first floor and around the corridor, which was 
filled with iron bedsteads, to a door bearing the 
letters B2. He told us this was to be our new 
home and opened the door. 

Inside, standing by the door, was a nun talking 
to two British officers. As soon as we entered she 
bowed to her friends, murmured, " Auf wieder- 
sehen" (good-bye), and slipped quietly out of the 
room. 

The taller one of the two greeted us with, 
" Cheer-o, fellows. What's the matter? You look 
bad. My name's Moodie (Capt. O. S. Moodie, 
Black Watch) and this is Gray (Lieut. K. W. 
Gray, R. F. C). Where did you get yours? 
You're the first human beings we've seen since 
January. Won't you sit down? " We gladly ac- 
cepted the invitation, introduced ourselves and 
proceeded to sketch briefly the story of June 2nd. 

Gray went to the window and shouted down into 
the courtyard, " Watkins, Hallam." In about a 
minute two English Tommies rushed in. They 
were patients who had recovered from their 
wounds and were kept on as officers' servants. 
One of them went downstairs and came up with 
bed linen, while the other proceeded to punch the 
three sections of mattress — or "biscuits" as they 
are called — and get everything ready. 

We were pretty tired. While we talked we kept 




LAZARETT VI, COLOGNE. 




FRENCH AND RUSSIAN PRISIONERS PEELING THE DAY 3 SUPPLY OF 
POTATOES FOR LAZARETT VI. 



LAZARETT VI 65 



one eye on the beds to make sure they would not 
vanish and with the other took in our surround- 
ings. 

The room was large — about twenty -five feet 
long and twenty feet wide. The walls were fin^- 
ished in light grey stucco. There were three large 
windows overlooking the courtyard. On the wall 
at one end was a black-board arranged like a win- 
dow. The two halves slid up and down in a frame. 
This was explained by the fact that the hospital 
had been a girls' school before the war and we were 
occupying class-room B2. The floor was covered 
with a rubber composition matting. Four regula- 
tion German military hospital beds were ranged 
along each side of the room. 

These were narrow iron beds with a steel rod 
at the head, which carried a metal plate painted 
black and on which was chalked the patient's num- 
ber, his "Krankheit" (illness) and details as to 
his diet — but more about this later. Beside each 
bed stood a small locker with two shelves and a 
drawer. A table at the opposite end of the room 
from the blackboard, a chair pushed under the foot 
of each bed, and a cupboard by the door, completed 
the furniture. 

As soon as we had fulfilled our duties as bearers 
of news we asked if it were possible to cable home 
to our families. We were told that it was impos- 
sible, but that we were allowed to write a post-card 



66 CAPTURED 



every week and a letter every fortnight and, if we 
hurried, we could get one of each away on a mail 
leaving next morning ( Monday, June 5th ) . 

Moodie and Gray provided us with note-paper 
and pencils — ink was " verboten." We pulled 
our chairs up beside our beds and began our let- 
ters. I stuck a pin through the paper to hold it 
as I wrote and proceeded to fill the six ruled sheets 
we were allowed. I wrote very small, gave a de- 
tailed account of my capture, and my new address, 
which consisted of my rank, name, and regiment 
in full, followed by Kriegsgefangener, Festungsla- 
zarett VI, Abt. Kaiserin Augusta-Schule, Coin, 
Deutschland. I knew that was enough to deter 
anyone from writing to me. My father got over 
this difficulty later by having numerous envelopes 
typewritten, and presenting them to anyone who 
suggested sending me a letter. That left them no 
loop-hole, so I got a lot of mail. 

I wrote this first letter to my sister, who was in 
England at the time. As I read it over again now 
I remember the prayers with which I finished it, 
and how I hoped it would arrive all right so that 
all the things I asked for might be started on their 
long journey. I will quote the latter part : 

" As you know I have lost everything I had in 
the trenches except what I had on. 's pic- 
tures and all of yours and Bill's are gone. Please 
sfctotl me more, all of yon,, Get Tom Fanner to seed 



LAZARETT VI 67 



back my kit (which was at Transport H. Q., back 
of the line). Then send me my gabardine tunic, 
slacks, my soft cap — I had on my steel helmet — 
that other pair of low shoes, new pair of puttees, 
my slippers, some socks and handkerchiefs, some 
shirts and collars, pipe, cards, tobacco, cigarettes, 
magazines and books (these latter never arrived), 
tea, oxo, chocolate — cooking and eating — sugar, 
jam, etc., tinned meats and meat pies. I'll have to 
depend on you for lots of little luxuries, so please 
keep sending this stuff regularly. It arrives O. K. 
Don't forget my underwear, too, and pajamas. 
Soon you will have to send heavy underwear. 
Also send me that new pair of cavalry-cord breeches 
and a pair of those fatigue slacks, a pair of size 8 
running shoes for tennis when I get into camp (I 
never got there). I am enclosing the key to my 
kit bag. You can send it to Tom. (It never ar- 
rived.) For Heaven's sake send me word as soon 
as possible about Jack. I haven't been able to find 
out anything. If he is not all right over there he 
may be here some place, but I haven't seen or heard 
of him, nor yet have I of any of the other officers. 
I can write a postcard every week and a letter 
every two weeks, and will write every other letter 
to and the other to the family. The post- 
cards will probably be used for rush orders, etc. 
Please, oh please, all of you write often. Send 
this to Father and Mother and ask them to for- 
ward it to . It's 11.30 and I am awfully 



68 CAPTURED 



tired, but I had to get this off tonight to go in A. M. 
We travelled from 11 o'clock last night till 5 this 
afternoon in one jump. Sorry I missed Uncle Jim 
in France. Love to all of you, heaps of it, and 
regards to all my friends and relations. 

" Harve." 

While we were writing Watkins appeared with 
the supper. It was Sunday night and we were not 
given a heavy meal. There were several thin slices 
of black bread spread with a filthy imitation of 
butter and a few slices of sausage. 

Wells and I eyed this hungrily, but Moodie and 
Gray told us to contain ourselves while they went 
up to the chapel to hold the service for the Eng- 
lishmen, after which they promised us a good meal. 

Their word was as good as their bond for, after 
chapel, Gray surreptitiously produced a little spirit 
stove from under the radiator, while Watkins was 
sent down to the basement for some mysterious 
tins. One of these was slipped into a bowl of hot 
water on the stove. The other was emptied into 
a little frying-pan and a beautiful odour filled the 
room. We thought we would probably wake up 
before long. Dishes were produced from the cup- 
board and other tins were opened and their con- 
tents divided on the plates. Gray was the master 
of ceremonies at the stove, and we eagerly watched 
him dump a can of peas into a dish and drop in a 



LAZARETT VI 09 



huge chunk of butter from another tin. When all 
was in readiness we sat on the sides of our beds 
and ate a meal which I would gladly have paid 
f 10 for at the Biltmore in New York. 

We had lamb chops and fried country sausage 
with green peas cooked in butter. For dessert 
there was a mixture of tinned peaches and pears 
covered with very thick cream. All this was 
miraculously produced from tins which Moodie 
and Gray had received in parcels from home, and 
we at once decided to ask for some of these things 
before completing our letters. 

After this wonderful meal we continued our 
writing, asking Moodie's and Gray's advice on what 
it wa^ iaost necessary to have. They told us we 
could iiave money cabled to us through Holland, 
and that we could buy lots of useful things such 
as shaving materials, etc. In the post card which 

I sent to Mr. C , the manager of our office in 

Manchester, I asked him to cable £10 and also to 
send word to my family. 3tfy father was in 
Canada, my sister was in England, and I knew 
that my mother had intended sailing for home on 
June 10th. I repeated many of the things I had 
stated in the letter, as we were told that post cards 
were surer and quicker. 

When we had finished writing we felt that our 
duty was done. Watkins was sent for, and he 
helped us undress and put on the funny little short 



70 CAPTURED 



hospital nightshirts. I was given one that fas- 
tened up the left side with tapes. The floor was 
covered with the mud that broke off as our puttees 
were removed. 

The beds were made in a peculiar way. The 
" biscuits " were covered with a sheet in the ordi- 
nary manner, but the blanket was folded up and 
slipped into a cotton bag just the width of the bed. 
This prevented any possibility of tucking in the 
clothes so that if you rolled on your side it made 
the bed draughty to say the least. It did not 
bother me as it was months before I was able to lie 
in any position except on my back. We were so 
tickled at getting into a bed between real sheets 
that we didn't care what disadvantages it might 
possess. 

I had a great deal of difficulty in finding a com- 
fortable position for my arm, but Gray very kindly 
gave me a small soft pillow he had secured some- 
how and on this I rested it. The pillows issued 
were as hard as bricks but felt like eiderdown to us. 

The lights were extinguished and all was still. 
It seemed so remarkably peaceful after all we had 
come through in the last three days that I could 
not help offering up a prayer of thanks that I was 
still alive. 

My mind kept wandering back to the events of 
June 2nd, and I fell asleep thinking about all the 
horrible sights I had witnessed. I passed the first 
of many restless nights dreaming of all this, won- 



LAZARETT VI 71 



dering what I could possibly have done to have 
got back to our lines, and what had become of Jack 
and all my other friends. At 3 A. M. I woke and 
could not get to sleep again. 



CHAPTER VII 

Hospital Life Begins 

My first full day in Lazarett VI had begun. At 
6 o'clock a Frenchman quietly entered the room 
carrying a huge jug of coffee and an armful of 
bread. There were enamelled mugs standing on 
our lockers, which he filled. He left us each a 
piece of black bread about four inches square and 
two inches thick. This was our ration of bread 
for the day. From that time forward, at regular 
hours, food was brought to us as follows : 
8 a.m. "Schinken" — which consisted of a very 
thin slice of bread smeared with some sort of 
grease and a shaving of sausage or cheese. 
This was breakfast. At this time we also re- 
ceived our ration of butter which consisted of 
a very small piece of this same greasy sub- 
stance used on the " Schinken." During the 
morning we each got a bottle of aerated water 
called lemonade and coloured either pink or 
yellow. We could have our choice. 
11 a. m. A mug of what was supposed to be bouil- 
lon — - a colourless and flavourless liquid whose 

72 



HOSPITAL LIFE BEGINS 73 



only virtue was that it was very hot. A cube 
of oxo dropped into this made a fairly decent 
drink. 
12 :30 P. M. Lunch — invariably watery boiled po- 
tatoes and cabbage, and sometimes a piece of 
horse-meat with all the nourishment boiled out 
of it for soup. It was coarse-grained and very 
sweet. Once a week we had awful smelling 
fish cooked with the heads, eyes and tails com- 
plete. There was no doubt about its being 
fish. The trouble was that it had been caught 
years before the war began. We could never 
eat it so we gave it to the Kussians who oc- 
cupied the beds in the hall outside our door. 
They devoured it all, poor fellows ! They re- 
minded me of the old story of the dog which 
was advertised for sale thus : " Will eat any- 
thing. Very fond of children." Instead of 
meat or fish we often got a very large pancake, 
tough as leather, and fried in fish fat. Butter 
and pure grease were never allowed in the 
hospital kitchens. 

2 p. m. A glass of milk. If you drank it at once, 
holding your nose, you could make yourself 
believe that it had come from a cow. If you 
left it standing for three hours it divided it- 
self into junket and clear water. After six 
hours the junket turned to a chalk-like sub- 
stance. 

4 p. m. Coffee. 



74 CAPTURED 



6 P. M. Dinner — which was the same as lunch 
with the addition of soup. 

About 8 o'clock on the morning of June 5th a 
sanitaire came for me and helped me along the 
hall to the X-Bay room where a very expert nun 
took two photographs of niy arm. Later on in 
the morning a rubber-tired hospital car bearing 
dressings and instruments was pushed into the 
room by an orderly, and in a few minutes Dr. 
Meyer and a red-headed assistant doctor, followed 
by two sanitaires all dressed in long white coats, 
appeared. One of the latter removed the bandages 
from my arm. Dr. Meyer examined the wound 
and muttered, "schlecht" (bad); then turned to 
the assistant doctor and said, " Schreiben Sie!" 
(Write!) The doctor diagnosed my case glanc- 
ing from time to time at the X-Eay photographs, 
while his assistant wrote down on a pad all the 
details which were later to be inserted in my medi- 
cal history sheet. 

Moodie spoke German very well and he ex- 
plained to me afterwards that the doctor had said 
that the wound where the bullet entered was not 
serious, but that three centimetres of the radius 
had been carried away, while the large hole torn 
by the flattened bullet and splinters of bone was 
in a serious condition, and several of the tendons 
had been destroyed. 

I was taken downstairs to the "plaster room." 
The doctor and his assistant slipped on overalls 




CROUP OF BRITISH PRISONERS AND SOME HOSPITAL ORDERLIES IN 
LAZARETT VI. AT THE EXTREME LEFT IS LUDWIG, AND STANDING 
NEXT HTM, LOEFELSIND. 




FUNERAL OF CAPTAIN DIRT. 



HOSPITAL LIFE BEGINS 75 

and spread sheets all over the floor. My arm was 
wrapped in flannel and then bandages sprinkled 
with Plaster of Paris were dipped in a pail of 
water and wound round my arm until I was in a 
solid cast from my shoulder to the tips of my fin- 
gers. During this operation the assistant had in- 
structions to hold my hand in a certain fixed posi- 
tion. I think he must have been in love, for his 
eyes wandered round the room and I had to place 
my hand over his to prevent him turning my wrist 
out of the correct position. While the plaster 
bandages were being wound on, a tin can was 
placed over the wound. When the plaster cast 
was completed this tin can was withdrawn, leav- 
ing a round opening for the purpose of applying 
dressings. I was told to go back to bed, having 
been given the cheerful information that I would 
have to carry this plaster cast around with me for 
two or three months. I could only lie in one posi- 
tion — on my back, and the continual pressure of 
the cast on my stomach caused me untold agony. 
I had no decent rest for weeks. 

When I got back to the ward I found the assist- 
ant doctor working on our medical history sheets. 
He wanted to know everything about us except 
whether our mothers wore false hair. Moodie 
acted as interpreter or we would never have got 
through. 

When he had gone our minds turned to more 
worldly things. Wells and I rubbed our chins 



76 CAPTURED 



which had not felt a razor for days and asked, 
"What about it?" Moodie said, "Oh, Ludwig 
will fix you up with a razor and everything you 
need. Have you any money?" 

" Oh, yes, we are rich. We have got twenty 
francs between us." 

" That's enough. Watkins, get Ludwig. " 

Hallam broke in with, " You only need to get one 
tooth-brush, Sir. I have an extra one I have only 
used a few times." 

We decided we would waste the price of the 
second tooth-brush. 

Pretty soon Ludwig appeared. He was enor- 
mous. His head was cropped like that of a con- 
vict. He had been the driver of a German beer 
wagon before the war and he looked as though he 
had never arrived anywhere with more than half 
of the original load. He grinned all over his face 
when Moodie poked him in the corporation and told 
him that we needed safety razors, soap, lather 
brushes, mirrors, tooth-brushes, tooth-paste, hair- 
brushes and combs. He sprang smartly to atten- 
tion, shaking all over like a jelly fish, sad, "Ja 
wohl, Herr Hauptmann," and went out of the room. 

We knew that our first shave would be a tough 
proposition so a Frenchman, who had been a Pari- 
sian barber before the war, was sent for. He gave 
us each a beautiful shave as we lay in bed and we 
felt much better. He used to shave the officers for 



HOSPITAL LIFE BEGINS 77 

twenty Pfennigs — five cents — and the men for 
ten Pfennigs. 

Not long after, Ludwig reappeared empty handed. 
Our hearts sank, but he produced everything we 
had ordered from the depths of his trouser pockets. 
His tunic hung down in such a manner from his 
enormous waist-line that he could have concealed 
anything from a tooth-brush to a baby elephant. 
We learned later on that this was an illicit trade 
which Ludwig carried on. He sold things to us at 
cost price and we tipped him regularly. He ran a 
little "blind pig" in the cellar where he sold 
Cognac or " Schnapps/' as he called it, at fifteen 
Pfennigs for a glass about the size of a thimble. 
He could not afford to lose a customer so he gladly 
ran messages for us. 

We were supposed to buy everything through 
the Feldwebel who added about a hundred per 
cent to the price of all articles. If we wanted to 
buy anything of size or value we were obliged to 
do it through him; otherwise there would be 
questions raised as to where we got the money, 
and who did the buying. I ordered a suit case 
later on. It was made of paper and cost me twen- 
ty-two Marks — $5.50. Owing to a little careless- 
ness the price mark — thirteen Marks — was not 
erased. I realised then what a burglar the Feld- 
webel was. That first day he went around the 
hospital and collected all the money from the new 



78 CAPTURED 



arrivals. We hated to part with it but there was 
no alternative. He was the banker for the hospi- 
tal and kept all the money belonging to the pris- 
oners. Three or four times a week a Frenchman 
would come around with a book ruled off for us to 
sign. Each officer was given the large sum of 
three Marks and each Tommy one Mark, if he had 
any on deposit downstairs. We were not allowed 
to have more than that amount in our possession 
at a time. Of course we had, but didn't tell 
every one about it. We all had camp and escape 
in view, and for that purpose hoarded our money. 
It might prove very useful. It was all made of 
paper, with the exception of the five and ten Pfen- 
nig pieces which were of iron. 

One day the Police Office got a tip that the 
English officers had money. An orderly came and 
told us that a German officer was going to search 
our room. He went out of the door for a minute. 
We stampeded to the cupboard, slipped some of 
the paper money between the leaves of books and 
in other hiding places — and waited. Presently 
in came the Police Corporal and several other hos- 
pital officials but no officer. It had been a bluff 
to make us declare everything. They asked if we 
had more than three marks apiece. We admitted 
that we had and opened the drawers of our lockers 
for inspection. They rummaged around and 
found we each had from five to ten Marks more 
than the allowance. We apologised profusely and 



HOSPITAL LIFE BEGINS 79 

said that it was an oversight. They carried this 
money off in triumph. We really had about a 
thousand marks between us at this time. 

Through an arrangement with the British Gov- 
ernment, each month a lieutenant was credited 
with sixty marks, forty of which were kept by the 
Germans to pay for hospital food. This, with the 
addition of the money that was sent from home, 
assured us at all times of a credit balance with the 
Feldwebel. 

During that first day I learned that Moodie had 
been taken prisoner in an attack at Loos, Septem- 
ber, 1915. He had been shot through the left 
ankle, just as he reached the barbed wire in front of 
the German trenches, and had been unable to go 
back when the others were ordered to retire. Ever 
since that time he had had his leg in plaster. 
Two or three times it had been removed but the 
ankle joint had become so stiff that the doctors 
had been obliged to break it again and reset it, in 
hope of eventually giving him some movement in 
the joint. He was absolutely fed up with German 
hospital life. 

Gray was an observer in the Koyal Flying 
Corps. His machine had been shot down by the 
famous aviator Boelke, in January, 1916. His 
pilot was killed and he was picked up unconscious. 
Boelke sent him a signed photograph with a pack- 
age of tobacco and cigarettes. These were all 
shown to me as cherished souvenirs. Gray's left 



80 CAPTURED 



arm had been badly broken by the fall. The ends 
of both bones were protruding. At the field dress- 
ing station four men pulled his arm while the doc- 
tor poked the ends of the bones into position with 
bits of wood. When he arrived at our hospital his 
arm was at once put in plaster by " Gyps Meyer " 
— nicknamed for his fondness for putting every- 
thing in plaster. They succeeded in getting one 
bone to heal, but the ends of the other bone were 
one above the other and about an inch apart. 
Gray was turned over to the surgeon of the hos- 
pital who did a wonderful graft operation, putting 
a piece of bone from the shin at right angles to the 
unhealed bone and thus joining up the two ends. 
Immediately after the operation Gray was again 
put in charge of Dr. Meyer who could not wait to 
see if the graft had been a success or not. He 
took the splints off after less than three weeks and 
commenced violent massage which broke the arm 
again. This happened just after our arrival and 
Gray was disgusted. Dr. Meyer put his arm back 
in plaster. 

By night time, June 5th, my temperature, which 
was taken regularly twice a day, was very high. 
I was feeling very ill and not taking much interest 
in life. 

The next morning, when the doctor removed the 
dressing, he discovered that I had gas poisoning in 
the wound. He called in the surgeon and they 
held a consultation and decided to amputate my 



HOSPITAL LIFE BEGINS 81 

arm. I wasn't keen on this and told them so. 
They said I would probably die if I didn't have 
the operation. I was so disgusted at being a pris- 
oner of war that I didn't care what happened to 
me. They held a long conversation and finally 
decided to wait a day or so to see how the wound 
progressed. Thank goodness, they did. If I had 
not been in such good health when I was wounded 
I would probably have cashed in. 

That day a man came in with a sign-board for 
the head of my bed. I felt like a convict when 
I saw my number — 3729. Under the word 
" Krankheit " was " Zerbrechung compl. links Un- 
terarms, Maschinegewehrschuss " (complicated 
fracture of left fore-arm, shot from machine gun). 
I suppose this was put there to remind me that 
I did not have hydrophobia or any other disease. 
At the bottom was chalked a large II and a list 
of the articles included in Diet II. There were 
two kinds of diet and the only difference between 
them, as far as I could make out, was the number. 

Watkins emptied all the valuables from the 
pockets of my uniform and carefully removed the 
badges. He did the same for Wells and carried 
our clothes off to be washed. Every prisoner on 
entering the hospital had his clothes taken from 
him and sent to the laundry. Hospital clothes 
were issued when he was able to get up and on 
leaving for camp his clothes, which were tied in 
a bundle and kept in racks in the basement, were 



82 CAPTURED 



again given to him. He very seldom got his orig- 
inal uniform complete as the Boches had a great 
liking for good boots and often helped themselves. 
The Russians suffered particularly in this respect. 
I have seen Russians in rags lined up in the 
courtyard, waiting to be taken away to camp. 
Some of them were without socks and had nothing 
on their feet but the hospital slippers. They were 
often without a tunic, to say nothing of a great- 
coat. I actually saw one man with his feet in 
bandages, lined up with the rest. Some fool doc- 
tor had discharged him from the hospital and he 
was waiting to hop away with the others, prob- 
ably to be put to work as soon as he arrived. After 
a great deal of fuss he was struck off the list and 
left behind. This was a marvellous feat for the 
German system. Once a thing is down in black 
and white it is almost unalterable without the 
Kaiser's consent. 



CHAPTER VIII 

Sunshine and Shadow 

My first three weeks in hospital passed by un- 
eventfully. Most of the time I was very sick and 
didn't take much interest in what was going on 
around me. I lay thinking of home and wonder- 
ing when I would get my first letters. 

There were three nuns in the hospital who were 
the only women on the staff with the exception of 
those working in the kitchen. Two of them as- 
sisted in the operating room and the other did all 
the X-Ray work. One, named Schwester (Sister) 
Edelberta, was very nice to us. She made a point 
of visiting our room almost every day. Two or 
three times she brought flowers from the chapel, 
which she placed in water on the lockers beside 
our beds. She often spoke of her brothers. One 
of them was in a German Regiment of Guards 
and had been at the front since the beginning of 
the war; the other had lost part of his hand and 
was at home. She went regularly to the chapel 
three times a day and prayed for the safety of her 
brother at the front and for the end of the war. 

On the occasion of these visits the conversation 
was weird and wonderful to hear. Our German 
was becoming undoubtedly more fluent but our 

83 



84 CAPTURED 



vocabulary was very limited. Sckwester Edel- 
berta was very religious and did not believe any 
one could tell a lie. Gray used to hold long con- 
versations with her on all sorts of subjects, but 
usually religion. His German was terrible but 
that didn't bother him in the slightest. He went 
right ahead making the most glaring mistakes in 
grammar and inserting English words where he 
did not know the German. A great deal of ges- 
ticulation and pantomime helped her to under- 
stand. 

One day he told her that he was a Buddhist or 
some such thing, and that part of their religious 
rites involved the burning of bones. He invited 
her to be present one day at this ceremony. She 
went away very much impressed, leaving Gray 
rolling on his bed with laughter. I think in a 
year's time he would have absolutely shattered 
that woman's faith. 

It was a big day when I was allowed up. I 
put my feet on the floor and then knew nothing 
more until I found myself back in bed. Watkins 
and Hallam had been standing nearby and caught 
me as I fainted. Later on in tfte day I sat up for 
ten minutes, but had such a high temperature at 
night that I was not allowed up again for three 
or four days, when I was given a complete set of 
hospital clothes. 

As soon as I was strong enough I made a tour 
of inspection of my new home. The hospital con- 



SUNSHINE AND SHADOW 85 

tained about five hundred beds, mostly occupied 
by Kussians. There were about fifty English pa- 
tients and the same number of French. The 
wards were all full and the corridors on every 
landing were cluttered up with beds to accommo- 
date the overflow. 

The building was of four storeys and constructed 
in the shape of the letter " L." There was a small 
paved courtyard in the centre, enclosed on two 
sides by the hospital, and on the other two by high 
brick walls in the rear of private houses. In this 
courtyard, and against one of the walls, was a 
small stone building used as a mortuary. It 
nearly always contained the bodies of one or two 
patients awaiting burial. Almost every day we 
would see a stretcher covered with a white sheet 
carried across to the mortuary. 

In one corner of the yard was a pig-pen and 
chicken-run. This was the private property of the 
inspector of the hospital, who used his Govern- 
ment position to great advantage. The stench aris- 
ing from the pig-pen made this corner of the court- 
yard almost uninhabitable. We had no other 
place to take exercise, and, between the pigs and 
the Kussians, we preferred to stay inside. 

In the basement was a room used for the stor- 
ing of clean hospital clothing and bed linen. On 
obtaining a written order from one of the doctors, 
articles of this nature could be secured from a 
little red-headed German named Loefelsind, who 



86 CAPTURED 



was in charge. He also kept guard over the store 
of methylated spirits for hospital use. He was 
not averse to making a little money now and then, 
and we used to secure a bottle of this precious 
liquid for our little stove at the price of a Mark. 
We would send Watkins or Hallam down for a 
clean sheet or a pair of trousers. He would carry 
the empty bottle down wrapped around with the 
dirty clothes to be exchanged for the clean ones, 
which would hide the bottle on its return trip. 

Near this was the parcel room, which was the 
most interesting for the patients. 

All the parcels and letters for prisoners in hos- 
pital were censored at Wahn or some similar place 
on the Dutch frontier. Those for prisoners in 
camp were not opened until they arrived at the 
camp in which the man was situated. The censor- 
ship of our parcels generally took from two to four 
weeks, so that parcels coming from England or 
Canada were anywhere from one to three months 
on the way. 

The parcel room was in charge of a German Un- 
teroffizier (non-commissioned officer) who had on 
his staff five or six English and French soldiers 
and one Russian sergeant-major. One or two mem- 
bers of the staff, accompanied by a hospital or- 
derly, would go to the station with a small hand 
cart and collect the parcels when their arrival was 
announced. Word soon went round the hospital 
that a certain number of parcels had come and the 



SUNSHINE AND SHADOW 87 

excitement was intense until the list was sent 
round giving the names of the winners. In the 
meantime the serial numbers, which were stamped 
on every parcel when it was censored, were en- 
tered in a book opposite the name of the recipient. 
The parcels were then opened and the sealed tins 
extracted. On each tin was printed in ink the 
hospital number of the man to whom it belonged, 
and then it was placed in a small room used for 
the storing of food stuffs belonging to prisoners. 
When this work had been completed, the men were 
allowed to enter the parcel room one by one, and 
take away the packages and unsealed tins to their 
wards. Every man was notified of the number of 
sealed tins that had been placed to his credit. 
When he required one of the latter he went to the 
basement, carrying with him plates, cups or any 
other container he could get hold of. The tins 
were opened and dumped into these receptacles. 
This regulation was enforced to prevent prison- 
ers receiving compasses or other articles of use 
when escaping, which might be enclosed very easily 
in the false bottom of a tin. By means of a little 
diplomacy and sleight-of-hand we were very often 
able to get an unopened tin to our room without 
being detected. I tucked many a tin into the broad 
sling which supported my plaster cast and thus got 
it past the watchful eyes of the Germans. In the 
parcel room were also the racks which held the 
bundles of clothes belonging to the patients. Each 



88 CAPTURED 



bundle bore a tag with the name of the man to 
whom it belonged. When a party was due to leave 
for camp there was great excitement in the parcel 
room, sorting out the clothes for the men who were 
going. Very often it would be found that some 
very necessary articles were missing, and a hurried 
attempt would be made to substitute these from 
bundles belonging to men who had died or of those 
still in the hospital. We used to imagine the day 
when the war would be over and the last man was 
to leave. We wondered whether he would wear 
any more clothes than Adam. 

The hospital was well guarded by Landsturm 
troops. At the beginning there were sentries on 
every floor but later on, owing to the shortage of 
men, the sentries were removed from the second 
and third storeys. One man stood guard at the 
front gate, and one sauntered around the court- 
yard with a loaded rifle hanging over his arm in 
a convenient position in case of any disturbance. 
We always watched critically the changing of the 
guard. They would clump along the street under 
the command of an Unteroffizier. In front of the 
hospital he would shout, "Halt! Gewehr ab!" 
(Order Arms.) With an uneven rattle and crash 
the rifles would bang down on the pavement with 
enough force to destroy the strongest firearm. At 
an unintelligible command they would straggle 
into the hospital and along to the guard room. 
The relief of the individual sentries was carried 



SUNSHINE AND SHADOW 89 

out in a free and easy manner. Each sentry of the 
first relief went alone to his post and the original 
sentry returned alone. The old guard was formed 
up in the street. The Unteroffizier called them to 
attention; ordered, " Gewehr auf, (Slope Arms) 
Marsch ! " and away they went. 

While inspecting my new home I found some of 
the men taken on the 2nd of June and had a long 
conversation with them trying to find out the fate 
of my friends, and what had happened in other 
parts of the line besides that of which we knew so 
much. 

We used to go around regularly and visit the 
English prisoners who could not get up. One man 
had been in bed for over a year with a bad wound in 
his leg. Owing to the lack of nourishing food the 
wound would not heal, and the leg swelled up and 
had to be lanced continually. He was in a terrible 
state. There was practically no flesh on his cheek 
bones. We sent him food regularly and for a week 
I kept him alive on a jar of calves' foot jelly I re- 
ceived later in one of my parcels, and which was the 
only food he was able to swallow. He could not 
even manage to drink a glass of malted milk. He 
was passed for repatriation direct to England, but 
there was some hitch in the arrangements and he 
was still in hospital when I left. This preyed on 
his mind to such an extent that it greatly retarded 
his progress. 

The food for the men was served in a disgusting 



90 CAPTURED 



manner. Patients who could walk were detailed to 
carry it from the kitchen to the wards. For this 
purpose they used a wooden rack with two shelves 
and a rod along the top. Each shelf had four large 
holes just big enough to hold firmly the tin bowls in 
which the food was served. The different portions 
of the meal were all thrown into this one recep- 
tacle. Very often a man would be given a bowl 
containing a mixture of bad fish, a few potatoes, 
some cabbage and a little dried fruit. The fact 
that all this was usually served by Russians, who 
were far from clean, did not make the meal any 
more attractive. 

If a man were in a dying condition he got the 
same food as the others. I know that many men 
did die simply because of the lack of nourishing 
food served in a way that would tempt their appe- 
tites. We all shared up our parcels, but for a long 
time we had very few. Later on when they began 
to arrive in greater numbers we were much bet- 
ter off. 

We used to spend a good deal of our time sitting 
on a bench in the front hall, looking out of the 
window and watching the children playing in the 
street. They seemed so happy and free that we en- 
vied their lot. 

About the end of June we had a visit from Mr. 
Williams. Before the war he had conducted the 
services in a church in Berlin which was attended 
by the Kaiser and his family. He received a spe- 



SUNSHINE AND SHADOW 91 

cial order which allowed him to visit the hospitals 
and camps and hold religious services for the Eng- 
lish prisoners. Of course, we had our regular Sun- 
day night service in the chapel of the hospital. It 
was conducted by Moodie, being the senior officer. 
The service was very simple. It consisted of the 
collect, psalms for the day, a few prayers from the 
evening and morning services, and three hymns. 
There was no sermon. We were provided with 
Church of England prayer books by a German par- 
son who spoke a little English and used to read 
the burial service for our dead. I always used to 
wonder that no one ever discovered that right there, 
in the heart of Germany, we prayed that the King 
should "vanquish and overcome all his enemies." 

When Mr. Williams arrived it was a big event. 
All the Englishmen who were out of bed assembled 
in the chapel. He was a charming man and, as he 
wanted to please everyone, he asked if we had any 
particular hymn we would like sung. Some bright 
spark in the back called out, " A Few More Years 
Shall Boll." We could not help laughing, but Mr. 
Williams took it all in good part and said, "No, 
we never sing that nor e There is a Happy Land.' " 

On July 6th a new lot of very badly wounded 
English arrived from the Somme battlefield. I no- 
ticed that they were asked the same questions as we 
had heard a little over a month before. The Ger- 
mans all wanted to know when they thought the 
war would be over. They gave the same answer 



92 CAPTUEED 



that every Englishman gives to this question, to the 
effect that we were just beginning to get our men 
ready, and the war was sure to last at least five or 
six years more. When a German gets this informa- 
tion he can almost cry, but he keeps on asking the 
same question from every new prisoner, hoping that 
some day he will find a down-hearted one who will 
tell him that England is ready to give in at any 
minute. I am afraid, however, that they will ask 
the question a great number of times before they 
find a down-hearted Englishman. 

Two of the new arrivals were officers. One 
young chap named Tilley had tried to stop seven 
bullets. Fortunately no bones were broken, but he 
had had two narrow escapes. One bullet had 
passed through the back of his neck and just missed 
his spine; another had seared his shoulder blades 
as though a red hot poker had been laid across 
them. This one also had passed within a fraction 
of an inch of his spine. His other wounds were in 
the legs and side. 

The second officer was named Clark. He had 
had his thigh badly fractured by a bullet. He had 
been nearly a week on the way back to Germany 
and in that time had developed gas poisoning. He 
was very feverish and ill. His wound was similar 
to mine so I took a great interest in him. 

The following day Dr. Meyer put Clark in plas- 
ter from his armpits to the foot of the broken leg. 
Of course, his arms and his other leg were free, 




FUNERAL OF CAPTAIN BIRT. 

THE FRENCH CAPTAIN, CAPTAIN MOODIE, THE GOVERNOR OF COLOGNE 
AND GERMAN OFFICERS AT THE MILITARY FUNERAL OF CAPTAIN 
BIRT, AN ENGLISH OFFICER WHO DIED IN LAZARETT VI. 



SUNSHINE AND SHADOW 93 



but he could not move and suffered agony from the 
wound and the heat of the plaster. 

I asked him if I could write home for him. He 
looked very grateful, and told me he was engaged 
to be married and would appreciate a letter writ- 
ten, half to his mother and half to his girl. He 
was too weak to dictate. I considered myself 
rather expert at writing love letters and very 
shortly produced a satisfactory epistle. He 
scrawled his signature and we sent it off. On the 
same day I wrote a similar letter for Tilley, whose 
arms had been partially paralysed by the wound in 
his neck. 

Clark became so ill that the doctor decided the 
only way to save his life was to amputate his leg. 
He was too weak to stand the operation, so they 
left it till the next day and hoped for the best. In 
the morning he was feeling better and smoked a 
cigarette. He said he could sleep, so we left the 
room. In half an hour they brought us word that 
he was dead. Tilley was just a youngster and felt 
very nervous at seeing Clark die in the same room 
with him. We cheered him up with stories of men, 
with serious wounds who had made a rapid recov- 
ery. Our prophecy proved correct. In three weeks 
he was up. Nature is a wonderful thing ! 

As a rule, when an Englishman died we were only 
allowed to buy wreaths and stand reverently at the 
door of the mortuary, while a German minister read 
the burial service in English. We always brought 



94 CAPTURED 



our hymn books with us and sang a hymn before 
the coffin was removed. 

When Clark was buried the same kind of service 
was held in the courtyard, but by special permis- 
sion ten men and we three officers who could walk 
— Gray, Wells and myself — were allowed to march 
behind the hearse to the grave. On this occasion 
we wore as much of our uniforms as we could get 
on over our plaster and bandages. Another short 
service was held in the chapel at the cemetery. 
From here the little procession was led by a Ger- 
man military band playing the Dead March. As 
the body was lowered into the grave we gave Clark 
his last salute. The band played a hymn and we 
were marched off by our guard. I will never forget 
seeing a German woman, who had probably lost all 
the men of her family, standing there weeping as we 
passed. 

On the way home, we came to a school just as the 
pupils were getting out. They at once surrounded, 
and commenced to .follow us. The guard had to 
use severe threats to drive them back and prevent 
them from stoning us. They hissed and booed until 
we were out of earshot. 

Several of the other newly arrived Englishmen 
died, but we were never again allowed to go to the 
cemetery. 



CHAPTER IX 
Making the Best of It 

The horrible monotony of the existence, the fact 
that no one around you cares whether you live or 
die, and that you have nothing to look forward to 
but the end of the war, make the life of a prisoner 
almost unbearable. One has actually to be a pris- 
oner to realise this. It is a state of mind that can- 
not be imagined. I can quite easily see how men 
who have been in German hospitals or camps for 
two or three years become despondent, nervous 
wrecks and often go stark staring mad, or commit 
suicide. 

Reading through my old letters home I come 
across a phrase now and then that recalls vividly 
the feeling of loneliness that possessed me at the 
time. After only six weeks of imprisonment I 
wrote : " Please write me often and tell me all the 
news, and ask anybody I know, who would care to 
write to me, to do so. It is horribly dreary here. 
It is cold and raining most of the time. Believe 
me, we will all be glad when the war is over." 

Moodie had spent a year in hospital and some, 
days would be attacked with a fit of the blues. He 
would lie on his bed without saying a word, paying 

95 



96 CAPTURED 



no attention when the meals arrived. Gray and I, 
seeing the effect on him and others, would attack 
him with pillows. Moodie would defend himself 
and a rough pillow fight would result. Of course, 
we had to be very careful not to injure the arms or 
legs which were in plaster. Heavy artillery in the 
shape of bottles of aerated lemonade would be 
brought up, and the shower baths that ensued would 
generally bring the party to an end with everybody 
laughing and the desired result would have been 
accomplished. 

There was an English Tommy with a shrapnel 
wound in the head, whose case illustrates the utter 
indifference displayed by the German doctors with 
regard to the fate of prisoners. His cheek bone 
was fractured just in front of the ear and for some 
time he was under the care of Dr. Meyer. He suf- 
fered a great deal of pain and could not sleep at 
night. The doctor seemed to take little or no no- 
tice of his suffering but said there was a splinter 
of bone inside the skull which might work to the 
surface if poultices were applied. This was car- 
ried out by the men in the ward, who heated water 
in a steel helmet over a spirit stove supplied by the 
hospital. The case became so serious that I inter- 
viewed the Chef Arzt and got the patient moved 
downstairs to another ward under the care of a 
head-specialist who operated at once. It was found 
that the man had an abscess on the brain caused 



MAKING THE BEST OF IT 97 

— — — — i 

by the splinter of bone. He died within a few days. 
Incidents like this did not tend to make our lot 
any more pleasant, but we avoided as much as pos- 
sible letting our minds dwell on our surroundings 
and lived in the past, and for the future. 
4 Cards were a diversion that offered great pos- 
sibilities. We Canadians introduced the " national 
game " of poker and also Polish Bank, and the 
Englishmen took a great delight in using the slang 
poker terms on every possible occasion. The Bus- 
sians and Frenchmen had peculiar games of their 
own. Wherever one turned little groups could be 
seen, sitting cross-legged on the floor or on the side 
of a bed, playing some game with a pack of greasy 
and dog-eared cards. In our ward bridge was the 
most popular form of amusement, and almost the 
whole of every afternoon was whiled away at this 
game. When we had more than four players the 
extra ones would sit around and watch the game 
until it was their turn to cut in. 

Beading also served to pass away the time. 
Moodie and Gray, who had been in the hospital for 
a long time, had a few books that had braved the 
censors, j We also had some books in English, such 
as " The Life of a Curate," which were provided by 
the German pastor who buried our dead and who 
also, at long intervals, held a service for us in the 
chapel. There was a waiting list for all these 
books, which were passed around the hospital as 



98 CAPTURED 



fast as they were read. If we had had a copy of 
Webster's Dictionary it would have been devoured 
from cover to cover. 

As I have said, certain men who were fit were 
employed on permanent duties, such as working in 
the parcel room, issuing tinned food, etc. ; Barclay, 
who had recovered from his wounds, being a 
stretcher bearer, was made a sanitaire. Others were 
employed on weekly fatigues, cleaning the floors 
and peeling potatoes. As this vegetable was our 
staple article of diet it took a lot of potatoes every 
day to feed five hundred men. At any time in the 
courtyard could be seen ten or fifteen men seated 
around barrels and tubs into which the potatoes 
were tossed as they were peeled. Later on, owing 
to the scarcity of food, the peeling was dispensed 
with as being wasteful. 

The study of French was an occupation which 
attracted many of the Englishmen. There was a 
French captain in the hospital — the only French 
officer there — and I soon made arrangements to 
exchange lessons in English for instruction in 
French. We managed to have text books bought 
for us in the city and commenced w T ork in earnest. 
He lived alone in a small room on the first floor and 
here, for two hours every day, we worked. Half 
the time was devoted to each language. We went 
right through the grammar taking one lesson at a 
time. In the beginning all our explanations were 
made in German, as this was the language we both 



MAKING THE BEST OF IT 99 



knew best. As time wore on, during the hour de- 
voted to French, that language alone was spoken, 
and a similar arrangement was made for the Eng- 
lish hour. Exercises were written as part of the 
preparation for each lesson, and these were cor- 
rected and assigned marks as religiously as though 
we had been correcting examination papers for a 
University degree. This serious work served to 
make the days seem much shorter and my knowl- 
edge of French proved of inestimable value to me 
later when I reached Switzerland. 

On July 8th we were sitting in the hall down- 
stairs when the mail arrived. A letter bearing my 
name was handed to me, and I felt as excited as 
though peace had been declared. It turned out to 
be a money order amounting to 200 Marks, which 
had been cabled to me from England. I knew then 
that my first letter or card had arrived, that my 
family at last knew my fate, and that I could expect 
letters before long. I was very much relieved. On 
July 13th I also received £2 sent by mail. The 
claim slip showed that at the current rate of ex- 
change I should have received 49 Marks, 23 Pfen- 
nigs. This amount was scratched out and 40 
Marks inserted. The difference was a pretty 
healthy discount for the Germans to claim. The 
value of the Mark kept decreasing during my stay 
in Germany, but on no occasion did any of us re- 
ceive the full amount due for the money sent. This 
open robbery must have netted the German Gov- 



100 CAPTURED 



eminent an enormous revenue, when one considers 
the number of prisoners who were continually re- 
ceiving money. 

On July 14th my first letter arrived, and from 
that time on my only thought on waiving in the 
morning was, " Will there be a mail in to-day, and 
if so, will I get a letter? " Every prisoner of war 
feels the same way. The most exciting thing that 
can happen to him is the receipt of a letter or a 
parcel. 

About this time the Swiss Commission paid a 
visit to the hospital. It consisted of three Swiss 
doctors who visited the English and French in most 
of the hospitals and camps in Germany, and se- 
lected men who were considered unfit for service 
for a year and who might be benefitted by treatment 
in Switzerland. The men had to be recommended 
by the doctors in charge. Those accepted were 
sent to Constance or some other place near the 
Swiss frontier, where they were seen by another 
Commission composed of half Swiss and half Ger- 
man doctors and final judgment was passed on 
them. The Germans had the deciding vote in case 
of doubt. 

Gray's arm was in a bad state. It was very 
crooked and he had a dropped wrist. He saw the 
Commission without advising Dr. Meyer that he 
was going to do so and was at once accepted, but 
unfortunately just as his name was being entered 
on the official list Dr. Meyer appeared. He was 






Camp money issued by the various prison camps and given in ex- 
change for German coins and notes which might prove valuable in 
case of the escape of a prisoner. The camp money was only good 
in the actual camp in which it was issued. 






The right-hand ring was made by a Russian prisoner in the hospital 
at Cologne from aluminum secured from a munition factory in 
which he was working. His only tools were home-made, and he did 
this work to earn a little money to buy extra food. 
The other two rings were also made by Russian prisoners and pre- 
sented to Lieut. Douglas out of gratitude for food he had given 
them. Left-hand ring is made from aluminum, and ring in center 
from horsehair and beads. 








Nickel coin, value 10 Pfennigs, in use before the war. (Right.) 
War issue of same value and made of iron. (Left.) 
Nail in form of stickpin and presented to each person paying two 
marks and driving an iron nail into the wooden statue Kolscher Boer. 
The money thus raised was used for Red Cross work. (Center.) 



MAKING THE BEST OF IT 101 

furious and said that he wanted to treat Gray's 
arm for some time to come. This was just what 
Gray was trying to avoid, but he had to stand aside 
and see his name struck off the list. 

Wells saw the Commission but was refused. 
Moodie and I were so far from recovered that we 
knew it was hopeless and did not present ourselves. 

Not long after this an English aviator named 
Wilson was brought to the hospital from the camp 
at Mainz, where he had been sent with several 
other officers to see the Swiss Commission. He 
told us some interesting things. He had been in 
touch with officers from several different camps and 
we listened eagerly to his description of camp life, 
as we all expected before long to be leading that 
sort of existence. We discussed earnestly different 
plans he had heard for escape, and looked forward 
to the time when we might take an active part in 
striving to attain what is cherished as the ultimate 
goal by every prisoner of war. 

» While Wilson was in Mainz there was an at- 
tempted escape. Three officers planned to work 
together. One small building in the camp was 
used as a recreation room and canteen. Inside the 
building, and against the wall next the canteen, was 
a series of long wooden steps, closed in at the ends, 
used as a sort of small grandstand for observing 
the various games in progress. Beneath this was 
the spot selected for the commencement of a tunnel. 
The sound of the ripping up of the floor boards un- 



102 CAPTURED 



derneath the grandstand was deadened by the cheer- 
ing and stamping arranged by the other occupants 
of the room. The work progressed beautifully. 
There was plenty of space under the steps for stor- 
ing surplus earth and the workers only emerged 
for roll call. 

One day, just before the tunnel was completed, 
orders were given that all officers who had been 
refused by the Commission were to be sent to other 
camps. Wilson had not been accepted, but was to 
be left behind, as he had to return to hospital. 
Most of the officers, including the three "moles," 
were on the list of those to leave. 

Our three friends entered their place of work, 
taking with them three days' provisions. Those 
outside replaced the boards at the ends of the steps 
with the nails in their original holes and departed. 
When the final roll was called, of course, these 
three were missing. No one had seen them. There 
was great excitement and eventually the party had 
to move off without them. 

That night, in a frantic attempt to complete the 
work, a little noise was made when the recreation 
room w T as vacated and absolutely still. The keeper 
of the canteen became suspicious and his report re- 
sulted in the discovery of the elusive ones. We 
never heard how many weeks of "jug" they got 
for this. 



CHAPTER X 
Privileges, Etc. 

Wilson only spent a few weeks with us, but his 
visit proved most profitable. We learned of the 
things we were entitled to and of the privileges 
accorded German prisoners in England. We de- 
cided to take a firm stand and demand certain 
rights for the Englishmen in the hospital. 

We officers formed ourselves into a committee and 
interviewed the Inspector. We told him about the 
way German prisoners were treated in England, 
explained to him that there were many men able 
to walk who needed fresh air and exercise, and de- 
manded that a system similar to that in vogue in 
all the camps should be introduced into the hospital. 
In camps men are put on their parole and sent out 
in parties of thirty or forty, in charge of a guard 
of one officer and a non-commissioned officer, to 
take a two-hour walk in the country. On their re- 
turn their parole is given back to them and they 
are free to attempt to escape if they wish. We 
explained the simplicity of this system to the In- 
spector, who promised to investigate the matter and 
make arrangements. 

The Inspector's name was Driessen. He owned 
a big hotel on the Rhine, which before the war had 

103 



104 CAPTURED 



accommodated many English and American visi- 
tors. He spoke English quite well and was, or pre- 
tended to be, very friendly towards English-speak- 
ing people. At the conclusion of our interview he 
suddenly came out with a string of the vilest Eng- 
lish oaths I ever heard and then asked us to trans- 
late them. This was a rather hard proposition, but 
we did the best we could. When he learned what 
he had said he seemed horrified. We asked him 
where he had learned his English and particularly 
where he had picked up such expressions. He said 
that before the war he had gone to England to 
study the language and had lived with a professor 
and his family. 

" Charming people," he said, " all of them very 
charming indeed. The only objection I had to 
them was that now and again the professor and his 
wife, and sometimes the mother-in-law, would get 
drunk, and then they would use those expressions 
which you have just translated for me. Oh, yes, 
they were charming people. " 

On July 21st our interview with the Inspector 
bore fruit. All the Englishmen in the hospital 
who could walk were to be taken out in the city 
for two hours. Uniforms were issued to these men, 
who polished their buttons and carefully put on 
their puttees in order to make a good impression 
on the people of Cologne. Just before it was time 
to start an officer marched in with a large guard, 
almost as big as the party they were to conduct. 



PRIVILEGES, ETC. 105 

We formed up in two ranks, were carefully 
counted, and marched out into the street. Moodie's 
leg was in plaster and he could not walk, so it had 
been arranged that he might have a carriage if he 
paid the expenses himself. In the carriage there 
was room for four — three officers and a German 
sentry. We drew lots as to who would accompany 
Moodie — Wilson and Gray were the lucky ones. 
Wells and I and the French captain, who wore his 
red breeches on these special occasions, were 
formed up in front of the men, who were arranged 
in sections of fours. The carriage was in the rear. 
The whole party was surrounded by the guard 
carrying loaded rifles with fixed bayonets. We 
moved slowly off like a convoy of dangerous crim- 
inals instead of a few harmless unarmed men, most 
of whom were helpless even had they been un- 
guarded. 

The commander of the party avoided the main 
streets as this was the first time prisoners had been 
paraded through Cologne in this manner, and he 
did not know how the people would act. His fears 
proved to be groundless as the adult population 
showed keen interest, but were not demonstrative. 
The children, however, made cutting remarks about 
England, and would gladly have done us injury 
had they been permitted. After nearly an hour's 
marching, we arrived at a large cemetery around 
which we were paraded for fifteen or twenty min- 
utes. This form of amusement evidently appealed 



106 CAPTUKED 



to the German sense of humour. We, however, 
took a great deal of satisfaction out of the sight of 
the thousands of little white crosses which marked 
the graves of the Germans who had died in mili- 
tary hospitals in Cologne. 

When we arrived back at the hospital I over- 
heard the following conversation between a Tommy 
who had been out, and one of his less fortunate 
friends : 

" Where did they take yeh, Bill? " 

" They took us to a bleedin' cemetery." 

" Yeh don't say so." 

"Yes, but the blinkin' thing was chuck full of 
Boches." 

"Good egg" 

After this the Germans felt frightened at what 
they had done, and we were not allowed out again 
for a month. We had many interviews with the 
Inspector and made ourselves so objectionable, that 
in order to gain peace the walks were resumed, but 
at irregular intervals. During seven months we 
were only allowed out of the hospital four times. 
After the first walk the officers were given the privi- 
lege of going alone with a German officer and a 
guard. They refused to let us give our parole and 
there was nearly always a greater number of sen- 
tries than prisoners. Try as we might, we could 
never again get permission to have a carriage for 
Moodie, and we were refused the privilege of visit- 
ing the famous cathedral on the ground that there 



PRIVILEGES, ETC. 107 

were fortifications nearby which we should not see. 
We were usually taken around the Ringstrasse, the 
main street of Cologne, which runs in a semi-circle 
through the city, commencing at one point on the 
Rhine and finishing at another a mile or two far- 
ther down. On one occasion we went to the Stadt- 
wald, which is a beautiful park on the outskirts of 
the city. It was raining and we asked the officer in 
charge if we might go into a small restaurant 
nearby and order something to eat while we waited 
for the rain to stop. As we approached the res- 
taurant we saw a German officer sitting with a lady 
on the balcony. He sneered at us and turned his 
back. On his account we were not allowed inside, 
but were obliged to sit out in the rain at a little 
iron table while we drank a cup of very bad coffee 
without cream and sweetened with saccharine. 
We were just two — the French captain and my- 
self. The officer in charge and the sentries avoided 
us, while we sat there, as if we had been a couple 
of lepers. We cursed the whole German army and 
hoped some day to be given the joy of commanding 
a camp full of German prisoners. 

We were more fortunate than the men who, on 
each of the four walks they were allowed to take, 
were conducted to a different cemetery. They say 
that variety is the spice of life. If taking a man 
to a different cemetery each time he goes for a 
walk constitutes variety, then these men certainly 
led a spicy existence. 



108 CAPTUKED 



Another privilege we considered ourselves en- 
titled to was the use of the small balcony overlook- 
ing the street. We officers had no place given us 
where we could be alone and take a little exercise. 
Though not of a grasping disposition, when we 
thought of the life of ease led by the German officers 
in England, we decided to demand everything it 
was possible to get, both for ourselves and the men. 
We were advised that an official application to the 
Governor of Cologne was necessary. This was 
made out in writing and signed by us all. 

After nearly two months of waiting, permission 
to use the balcony was given. During this period 
we had a visit from Mr. Jackson, the American 
Ambassadors Secretary, to whom we complained 
about the delay to our application. The Inspector, 
who was present, was furious at this complaint 
which, however, had the desired result of hurrying 
up a decision. Every fine day after that we moved 
chairs outside and sat in the sun or walked slowly 
up and down to get back some of the strength we 
had lost through months of idleness. The people 
in the street would often stop to stare at the caged 
animals pacing up and down in the enclosure in 
front of their den. Sometimes there would be a 
new sentry at the gate, who would look up 
and discover us and yell, " Los ! " — pronounced 
" Loose " and meaning " Get out ! " 

We would lean over the balcony and laugh at 
him, while he went in, frothing with rage, to report 



PRIVILEGES, ETC. 109 

us — only to discover that the balcony was not 
" verboten." 

Of course, up to this time we had had the run of 
the courtyard, in which we religiously tried to take 
exercise every day, but there was such a crowd that 
we were continually bumping men and jarring our 
injured members, and finally gave it up. 

The men were allowed to stay in the courtyard 
till 8 o'clock in summer and 7 o'clock in winter, and 
according to the season of the year they had to be 
in bed by 9 or 8 o'clock. As daylight saving was in 
vogue the lights were seldom turned on in the men's 
wards, but the officers were not obliged to retire 
before 10. 

The English Tommy is always cheerful and some- 
times sentimental. He grouses a lot, but this is 
superficial. It is a habit quickly acquired on en- 
tering the army and besides, — it is considered the 
thing to do. At heart he is a fine fellow and his 
best qualities are brought out under the trying con- 
ditions of life in a prison hospital. 

After the evening meal the men would often 
gather in a circle in the courtyard round a man 
playing a mouth organ, and indulge in a little 
" close harmony." This crowd would usually be 
swelled by musically inclined Frenchmen and Rus- 
sians. Watkins and Hallam considered themselves 
second only to Caruso and John McCormack and 
led the singing. These entertainments always 
started well but had a weak finish. The Police 



110 CAPTURED 



Corporal had a strong aversion to (ho English and 
took a delight in squashing any attempt at amuse- 
ment on their part. As soon as one of the " barber 
shop n chords would reach his ears he would order 
the guard to clear the courtyard at once. There 
would be a great shouting oi' u Los!" and u Iler- 
aus!" and all the patients would slink up to their 
wards. 

The officers in the hospital were allowed the 
privilege of buying, every night, a tlat watery beer, 
which was sold in bulk for i'oviy Pfennigs a litre, 
and was quite harmless. When we sent the money 
downstairs a woman from the kitchen went to a 
neighbouring bar and brought back the beer in a 
large metal flagon. The men soon got wind oi' this 
and, in the name oi' the officers, would also send 
down orders for beer. The poor woman had often 
to make two or three trips io the bar and gathered 
the impression that the English officers had the 
Germans u trimmed to a standstill M as far as beer 
drinking was concerned. 

We subscribed to the Colnische Zeitung (Cologne 
Gazette) and every night after the evening meal 
would gather round the table and sip our beer, while 
some one translated the communiques. We smiled 
when we read, almost every day, how the English 
had suffered a "blutige Schlag" (bloody defeat). 
A successful advance on the part of the Allies was 
never mentioned, nor were the numbers of any pris- 
oners taken by us. The British communique* was 



PRIVILEGES, ETC. Ill 

always cut short, but on one occasion we got a copy 
of the V 'olkzeitung y in which the censor had been 
careless and inserted one sentence more of our com- 
munique than appeared in the Cdlnische Zeitung. 
This sentence actually stated that we had taken 
several thousand prisoners. We had war maps 
cut from the newspapers and also other maps 
bought for us in the city by Ludwig. These were 
kept carefully hidden and we never failed to mark 
<tv(try village that changed hands. We could tell 
from the mention of new names in the German 
communiques that, in spite of many a "blutige 
Schlag," we were advancing. 

We also got news from new arrivals, although 
these events were few and far between. One day a 
small, dejected lot of Frenchmen were brought in, 
who told us that they had carried out a local attack 
and were returning with twice their own number 
Of prisoners, whom they were driving before them 
across No Man's Land. The French machine gun- 
ners saw only Germans advancing and, thinking it 
was an attack, opened fire. The Germans in the 
rear did the same thing, and every man who was 
caught in this hail of bullets was either killed or 
wounded. The wounded Frenchmen were collected 
by the Germans and were very much disgusted with 
their fate. 

Another reminder we had that the war was still 
on was the continual appearance of Zeppelins over 
Cologne. These monster dirigibles would some- 



112 CAPTURED 



times fly very low over the hospital, port'onning va- 
rious evolutions for the benotit of the people in the 
st roots below. On such occasions we got an excel- 
lent view oi' the gondolas, machine gun platforms, 
and other details that wont to make np these ele- 
ments of dost motion whioh wore reported in the 
papers to be doing terrible damage in England. 
At night we would often be awakened by the whirr 
of propellers, and looking out of the window would 
soo the black outlines of a Zeppelin silhouetted 
against the sky and boa ring rod and green lights 
on the forward gondola. 

Zeppelins starting out for a raid on England 
usually passed over Cologne. One day, about 4 
o'clock in the afternoon, the " L33," flying in a west- 
erly direction, passed so Low over the hospital that 
I could not refrain front making a detailed sketch 
of it on the blackboard. When it was finished I 
slid the front half of the board up to cover the 
sketch, of whioh 1 was rather proud. The next day 
we saw by the papers that the "L33" had boon 
brought down in England. The next time the doc- 
tor and his assistants oattio io our ward we dis- 
played the picture of the Zeppelin hearing its num- 
ber in largo letters on the side, and asked them if 
they know what had happened to it. They were 
furious and ordered the picture erased. 

Wilson was a groat ladies 9 man and was always 
looking out of the window at the houses across the 
street searching for a girl who would answer when 



PRIVILEGES, ETC, 11 



<> 



he waved. One day he took rno mysteriously to a 
little room on the top floor with a ladder leading 
throng]] a trap door to the attic. Tin's was most 
exciting. Quietly we walked along the boards ly- 
ing on the joists until we eame to a plank running 
across the arched ceiling of the " Grande Salle," or 
what had been the prayer hall of the school and 
was now a large ward of eighty beds. We thought 
of the surprise ire would give the patients if we 
should slip and crash through the ceiling into the 
hall below. We eventually reached a window in 
the front of the hospital, which was directly oppo- 
site a window of the house across the Street- One 
of Wilson's lady friends was Standing here and an- 
swered his signal. He told me that the day be- 
fore there had been two of them and he wondered 
where the second one was. We learned from the 
signs this girl was making that her sister had been 
arrested for communicating with prisoners of war. 
A few days later she signalled across to us that she 
was to suffer the same fate and be, taken away to 
gaol at 5 o'clock. We were all at a window down- 
stairs at this hour and waved tier a cheery good-bye 
although she went away in tears. According to 
her signals she was to do fourteen days' cells for 
this terrible crime. 

1 did not have any more exciting escapades with 
Wilson as, shortly after this, he and Wells were dis- 
charged from hospital and sent to camp with some 
of the men who had been wounded on June 2nd and 



114 CAPTURED 



were now recovered. I was sorry to see Wells go. 
He was a Canadian, and at that time I had not 
fully realised what fine fellows some Englishmen 
are. The Englishman as a rule is hard to get to 
know, but once the ice has been broken you find 
that he makes a very good friend. 

A Canadian that I know was on one occasion 
walking with an Englishman when they came to a 
man stooping over picking up something from the 
ground. The Canadian suggested that the English- 
man should quietly kick him in the seat of the 
pants. 

u My dear fellow," replied the Englishman, " I 
cawn't do that. I haven't been introduced to the 
chap." 

On August 5th I received my first parcels, which 
had been sent by my sister from England. It 
seemed just like Christmas, and I eagerly un- 
wrapped all the little necessities of life together 
with what I considered a great number of absolute 
luxuries. My parcels were a welcome addition to 
our store of food, as during the two previous 
months the supplies sent to Moodie and Gray had 
been very much overtaxed. 

About this time, also, another milestone in my 
life was passed when, with a huge pair of scissors, 
the plaster cast was cut away from my arm. The 
doctor seized me by the wrist and elbow and pro- 
ceeded to manipulate my arm in what I considered 
to be a frantic attempt to break the bone. I ex- 



PRIVILEGES, ETC. 115 

plained to him, in my very best German, that the 
ends of bone had not yet joined together, as I could 
distinctly feel them moving. He did not agree 
with me and ordered an X-Ray photograph to be 
taken, followed by a series of hot arm baths to re- 
store the suppleness of the muscles. I was in the 
midst of one of these baths when he rushed in carry- 
ing the photographic plate and dragged me off to 
the plaster room, where he repeated the operation 
of two months before. This time I was told that 
three months would elapse before my arm would be 
again free from the cast. 



CHAPTER XI 

Luxury Under Difficulties 

Before the war, the business firm with which I 
was connected had done a great deal of buying 
in Germany. We had a German agent who wrote 
me a very nice letter asking about my arm, and 
wanting to know if there was anything he could 
do for me. I was not allowed to answer this letter 
but the Inspector did so for me. 

I received, later on, another letter from a Ger- 
man who was a naturalised American citizen and 
represented a large firm with whom we had done 
business. He also asked if there were not some- 
thing he could do. I was permitted to write an 
answer on the back of his letter and requested that 
he should send me, if possible, a couple of English 
novels and a French dictionary. In a very few 
days I received these articles together with a box 
of very good cigars and some cigarettes. This man 
came to Cologne to see me and spent three days 
there interviewing officials. He was not even al- 
lowed to look at me to satisfy himself that I was 
well, so that he could report to my family. 

One day we were surprised at the arrival of an- 
other officer named Barnes, of the Canadian Engi- 
neers, who had been taken prisoner on June 2nd, 

116 



LUXURY UNDER DIFFICULTIES 117 

but since that date had spent his time in another 
hospital in Aachen. He had been sent to Lazarett 
VI to have one of his eyes removed, which had been 
damaged by the explosion of a bomb, and was 
placed downstairs in the same room as the French 
Captain in order to be directly under the care of 
the head-specialist. 

Barnes managed to give us some new information 
regarding the events of June 2nd, and I was par- 
ticularly interested in hearing that he had been in 
the hospital with a man named Martin who was 
also an officer of the 4th C. M. R. and who had been 
badly wounded in both legs. 

Barnes' eye was removed by the head specialist, 
who used the operation as the subject for a lecture 
to some students who came regularly to the hos- 
pital for instruction. All he had to deaden the 
pain was a very badly applied local anaesthetic. 
The students sat around in a semi-circle while the 
doctor snipped each nerve and muscle separately, 
calling out their names and going into explanations 
as to their functions, while Barnes drew blood from 
his lower lip with his teeth in trying to keep from 
screaming out with the pain. 

From this time on we nicknamed Barnes " Cy- 
clops/' a name which stuck to him until he left the 
hospital. 

Across the hall from our ward was a bathroom 
containing four baths. It was in charge of two 
Russians, who kept the place very clean and always 



118 CAPTURED 



had hot water on hand, which was provided by two 
small stoves in the room. Nearly all the beds on 
our floor were occupied by Russians, many of whom 
had filthy diseases. We objected strongly to bath- 
ing after these men, no matter how well the tubs 
had been scrubbed out. We were afraid of having 
our wounds infected, and finally made arrange- 
ments to have a bath curtained off at one end of the 
room for the exclusive use of the Englishmen. As 
soon as this had been effected an assistant doctor 
and all the sanitaires located on our floor admired 
the arrangement so much that they decided to seize 
this bath for their own private use. Hallam had 
an altercation with a sanitaire over this and just 
restrained himself from striking the man. He got 
into a great deal of trouble and, as a direct result, 
was later on sent to camp. We eventually suc- 
ceeded in having another bath allotted us. 

Soap was non-existent in the hospital. A greasy 
sort of substance in tins, somewhat similar to soft 
soap, was supplied for washing purposes. The 
Russians in charge of the bathroom used to do our 
laundry, but this soft soap stained everything a 
weird combination of green and yellow. 

We were always looking for something to vary 
the monotony of our existence and one day thought 
of investigating the pig pen. The man in charge 
had no objections to our doing this and we went 
inside. Some one noticed an egg lying on the straw 
and slipped it quietly into his pocket. We thor- 




FOUR CHEERFUL BRITISH PRISONERS. IN THE CENTRE — 
WATKINS (WEARING SWEATER) AND BARCLAY. 



LUXURY QNDEB DIPPICULTIE 119 



oughly invent jVafod f.h<: jn'r>s, <:<)\\<t<;t'\n% about, fivs 
eggs in doing SO. The next morning, with thfi as- 
sistance of our Little spirit stove, re had a wonder- 
ful breakfast and laid plant for the next day. For 
nearly a wwik \\m>m pign got more attention than 
they bad ever had En their lives, and we had better 
breakfasts than we had had since being taken pri* 
oners, whereas the Inspector, who had been count- 
ing on these eggs for bin own meal*, grew more 
furiotu every day. We made the horrible mistake 
of taking all the egg* we could hud and a large pad- 
loci was pul on the pig pot 

Towards the latter part of August parcels began 
to arrive for all the Canadians who had been taken 
prisoner on the 2nd of June. The Canadian Bed 
Cross parcels were particularly welcomed by those 
men whose families were not in a position to keep 
them supplied with a continual stream of food. 
Those of as who had friends En England were espe- 
cially fortunate En receiving parcels both from this 
source and from our homes En Canada. 

The englishmen envied the lot of the Colonials 
as they said that we were looked after better than 
they were, both En Prance and in Germany, Any 
little nnevenness in the distribution of parcels was 
overcome by the generosity of those who received 
more than their share, and men who did not get 
sufficient food to supplement the rations Issued by 
the hospital, and any new prisoners who arrived 
destitute and hungry, were always taken care of by 



120 CAPTURED 



their more fortunate friends. Many of us received 
parcels of bread sent twice a week from Switzer- 
land but, unfortunately, owing to the fact that the 
censorship at Wahn was so slow, in most cases the 
bread arrived in a mouldy condition. Prisoners in 
camp received the Swiss bread in excellent shape 
as the parcels went direct from Switzerland to the 
various camps, where they were censored and at 
once given to the addressee. On rare occasions we 
received a loaf or two of bread in perfect condition, 
although very hard and dry, and then we celebrated 
accordingly. But more often I have seen a parcel 
of Swiss bread, which had lain in Wahn for a 
month, arrive with the centre all eaten out and 
sometimes containing a rat's nest. 

It was well that our parcels had begun to arrive 
at more frequent intervals, as the hospital rations 
were cut down owing to the great shortage of food 
and the failure of the potato crop in Germany. 
Horsemeat was a luxury which we got very rarely, 
and fish appeared on the menu more often than 
ever. Another substitute for meat was a species 
of large sausage, containing mostly bones and 
gristle, and made from all the otherwise unusable 
parts of an animal. It seemed to us that there were 
about eight meatless days in every week. 

Loefelsind, the little German who had charge of 
the hospital linen, and whose home was in Cologne, 
told me that, short as our rations were, we got more 



LUXURY UNDER DIFFICULTIES 121 

and far better food than was allowed the civil popu- 
lation of the city. He had a wife and three chil- 
dren and their weekly allowance of meat was not 
enough to make a decent meal for the average man, 
while the supply of milk and other nourishing foods 
was not enough to keep the children healthy. This 
state of things prevailed in every large city in Ger- 
many, but the farmers, in spite of strict regulations 
as to reporting the total output of their farms, man- 
aged to secrete a certain portion and live fairly 
comfortably. 

Moodie had told us, a month or so before, that 
some one had sent him a small phonograph and 
records. We had been eagerly looking forward to 
the time when these should arrive and about the 
first of September the parcel came. We happened 
to be in the middle of a meal, but food was forgotten 
for the time being, and we played every record 
through behind closed doors and windows and with 
a fine needle, as we had not received permission to 
use the phonograph in the ward. We knew that 
trouble might ensue if this were not obtained, and 
did not dare ask permission as we were " in wrong " 
with the hospital authorities, and knew that it 
would be refused on some technical grounds, such 
as that of disturbing the other patients in the hos- 
pital. The phonograph and records were always 
kept carefully hidden under a bed when not in use. 
From that time on it was worked overtime and al- 



122 CAPTURED 



ways with the greatest care. If a footstep were 
heard in the hall the machine was immediately shut 
off and pushed under the bed. 

On Sept. 19th the plaster was removed from my 
arm for the second time, and Dr. Meyer, remem- 
bering that my statement about the arm not hav- 
ing been healed on the previous occasion had 
proved correct, asked me whether I thought the 
bone had knitted. I was not sure, but told him 
that I thought at last it had joined up but was in 
a very weak condition. He ordered an X-Ray pho- 
tograph to be taken, then he passed on to the next 
ward saying that he would return when the plate 
had been developed. He went home that day with- 
out seeing me again or examining the photograph, 
and left no instructions as to what should be done 
with my arm over night. I went to the X-Ray 
room myself and saw by the photograph that the 
bones had grown together along a splinter, but that 
the junction was composed of an almost transpar- 
ent substance, and I knew that if I rolled on my 
arm in the night it would probably be broken 
again. Fortunately a good Samaritan in the shape 
of Schwester Edelberta, who was horrified to think 
that nothing had been done for me, secured a splint 
which she applied herself. The next day the doc- 
tor was delighted when he saw the X-Ray photo- 
graph and congratulated me on my good fortune, 
saying that only one per cent of fractures of this 
nature were healed without a graft operation simi- 



LUXURY UNDER DIFFICULTIES 123 

lar to that performed on Gray. He began to 
massage my arm vigorously, which at once caused 
an abscess by shifting the splinters of bone which 
were still in the scar. He applied a splint and 
said he would wait a month for the bone to 
strengthen before he operated to remove the splin- 
ters. 

Moodie also got his foot out of plaster, and a 
shoemaker was called in from the town to make a 
special boot with a cork rise on account of the 
shortness of his leg. He at once began to talk of 
going to camp ; and Gray laid plans to go with him 
as there were rumours of another Swiss Commis- 
sion, and he thought that he would have more 
chance of being accepted in camp than in hospital, 
where he had failed once before. He asked Dr. 
Meyer's permission to leave with Moodie, but in 
order to obtain this he had to sign a certificate to 
the effect that he took all responsibility in case his 
arm, which was not properly healed, should be 
broken while at camp. Tilley was also quite well 
again, and arrangements were made for all three to 
leave together. 

Before our happy home was broken up we de- 
cided to go " right in off the deep end " and hold a 
big dinner. We had never been extravagant with 
our food before, but we felt that this was an occa- 
sion which demanded it. The French captain and 
Barnes were invited to come and to supply any 
delicacies that they wished to contribute. 



124 CAPTUKED 



The French captain promised a whole chicken 
tinned in jelly which he had received from Paris. 
The instructions said that it had to be placed un- 
der a cold water tap one hour before eating. He 
was very precise, and after asking the exact hour at 
which we intended to dine, said he would be on 
hand with the chicken ready to eat. 

Ludwig was given careful instructions a few days 
before the event and secured for us two bottles of 
Madeira and a bottle of Port, which were hidden 
under the mattresses till the time came to open 
them. The day previous we spent some time print- 
ing the menus — one copy for each guest — deco- 
rated with the flags of the Allies as far as red and 
blue ink would permit. We secured two tables 
which, when placed together, would give plenty of 
room for six, and calculated the number of plates 
necessary to avoid having to use any twice in suc- 
cession. Watkins promptly stole the extra ones 
from the kitchen. 

We dressed for parade as completely as we could, 
but the French captain outshone us all in his blue 
tunic and red breeches. My tunic had shrunk so 
much in the wash that I could hardly button it, 
and the sleeve was slit up so as to enable me to put 
it on over my plaster cast. The others were in a 
similar plight, but in spite of our peculiar appear- 
ance we felt " all dressed up and no place to go." 

Moodie, being the senior, was made chairman, 



LUXUKY UNDER DIFFICULTIES 125 



and before dinner he put us each in charge of a 
certain course, preferably the one we had shown 
ourselves to be more or less expert in cooking. 

At 7 o'clock we sat down and glanced at the 
menus in a careless manner as though we had never 
seen them before, and had not spent most of the 
last three days sneaking down to the basement and 
smuggling up the tins containing the food an- 
nounced thereon. 

The menu was as below. It was printed in 
French with many side remarks of a more or less 
witty nature. Unfortunately my copy was taken 
away from me on leaving Germany, but the follow- 
ing details I have secured from one of my letters 
home. 

Consomme 

Mock Turtle Soup 

Poisson 

Sardines 

Entree 

Creamed Shrimps 

Piece de Resistance 

Cold Chicken and Sausage 

Tomatoes Peas 

Fruits Confits 

With Cream and Custard 

Entremets 

Welsh Rarebit 



126 CAPTUKED 



Dessert 

Dates Raisins 

Biscuits Cheese 

Cafe au Lait 

Vins 

Madere Porto 

To cook this wonderful banquet we had but one 
tiny spirit stove with two burners, one medium and 
one small saucepan and one toy frying pan. 

While one course was being eaten the cook for 
the next would be dancing around the stove, burn- 
ing his fingers, and rushing to the table at odd in- 
tervals to snatch a bit of the course in progress. 
It was the most exciting meal I ever ate. Watkins 
was working against time and our appetites trying 
to wash, in a pail of hot water, the dishes for the 
course about to be served. We expected the room 
to be raided and all our little secret luxuries dis- 
covered, but decided to throw everything to the 
winds and enjoy ourselves. Fortunately, no one 
came in to disturb us. 

After dinner we drank the health of everybody in 
turn. Speeches were made alternately in French 
and English (on this occasion German was barred) 
and at the conclusion of the evening we all voted 
unanimously in favour of a similar dinner with the 
same guests to be held after the war if it could 
possibly be arranged. (Here's hoping that it will 
be possible.) 



LUXURY UNDER DIFFICULTIES 127 



A few days after this Moodie, Gray and Tilley 
departed for camp, and left me in sole possession 
of the ward. 



CHAPTER XII 

Alone 

I never felt so downhearted in my life as the day 
I was left alone in that hospital ward. The room 
seemed twice as large as before. My locker and 
the floor around my bed were cluttered up with 
articles, such as empty tin boxes for sugar, or glass 
jars for holding butter when taken from the tin, 
all of which had been the precious possessions of 
the boys who had left, and had been donated to me 
as too bulky to carry. The drawers of the other 
lockers stood open as they had been left in the last 
hurried search. Discarded hospital clothes lay on 
the untidy beds and the floor was strewn with torn 
up letters and other papers. I asked Watkins to 
tidy the room and fled from the scene. 

I spent most of that day with the French Cap- 
tain and Barnes until I was summoned to the par- 
cel room to examine two mysterious packages which 
had arrived for me. They turned out to be a phono- 
graph and records which had been sent by a very 
kind uncle. This was a piece of luck, that, the day 
Moodie departed with our chief source of amuse- 
ment, the gap should be filled in such an oppor- 
tune way. The excitement was as great as on the 

128 



ALONE 129 

day of the arrival of the first phonograph, because 
here we had a brand new lot of records we had 
never heard which had to be tried over at once. 

The phonograph was a very compact little ma- 
chine, exactly the same as the one we had had at 
battalion headquarters in the trenches. It was 
constructed in two halves joined by hinges. The 
lower part contained the machinery, and the upper 
part, which stood upright when the instrument 
was playing, held a concave metal sound-reflector. 
When closed up, the phonograph could be locked 
and carried about by a suit-case handle arranged 
for the purpose. 

I could not see why a phonograph should not be 
allowed in the hospital, so braved the lion in his 
den and told the Inspector that I had one which I 
wanted permission to use occasionally in the men's 
wards as well as my own. After some arguing this 
was obtained, and I came to the conclusion that you 
never know what you can do till you try. 

Shortly after this I arranged for a little con- 
cert in the ward which had the greatest number of 
Englishmen in bed. All those from the other 
wards who could come were invited to do so. I 
saw the sanitaire on duty, who happened to be al- 
most human and promised to say nothing if the 
men smoked, provided I would see that all traces 
were removed when the concert was over. Barnes 
promised to assist me, both in running the phono- 
graph and supplying the very necessary cigarettes. 



130 CAPTURED 



The news had spread like wildfire, and when we 
appeared I think every Englishman in the hospital, 
who was not at death's door, was seated on the beds 
or on the floor of that ward. They were delighted 
when they heard that they could smoke. This was 
not allowed in the building. Goodness only knows 
why, because it was very modern and absolutely 
fire-proof — and the bed patients had the first com- 
fortable smoke they had had since entering the hos- 
pital. An English Tommy would die without a 
"fag" and the only chance he had to light up in 
Lazarett VI was at night. 

The sanitaire on duty had a nasty habit of burst- 
ing into the rooms and suddenly switching on the 
lights, in order to catch the men at this trick. He 
always found them apparently fast asleep, and 
never knew that most of them were holding a 
lighted cigarette under the covers. The tell-tale 
holes burnt in the bed clothes were what always 
caused the trouble. 

The concert commenced about three o'clock. I 
didn't want to bore the men and had counted on 
only playing the machine for an hour or so, but we 
didn't stop till six o'clock when the appearance of 
supper broke up the party. Never had musical 
artists performed for a more enthusiastic audience. 
Shrieks of laughter greeted every joke and every- 
one joined in and sang all the better known popular 
songs. Some of these were called for over and over 
again, We conclude^ the performance with a dou- 



ALONE 131 

ble song from a musical comedy, in which God Save 
the King, quietly sung by the chorus, formed the 
background for a popular lay. We all felt as 
though we should be standing at attention. 

Other similar concerts were afterwards held in 
different wards and helped to brighten our all too 
monotonous existence. 

Our regular Sunday night services went on as 
usual, and by this time I had graduated to the po- 
sition of pastor. I must confess that I didn't make 
a very good one. I am a Presbyterian and my 
knowledge of the English church service was lim- 
ited. Before leaving, Moodie had written out for 
me a list of the prayers in use and the pages on 
which they were to be found. During the week 
Watkins selected the hymns and practised them 
over with a Canadian sergeant who was wounded 
in the head and who managed to do fairly well at 
the little organ in the chapel. Each Sunday I went 
to the service with every finger of my good hand 
marking a place in the book. I have often watched 
ministers in church looking up places in the prayer 
book during the singing of the hymns and followed 
their excellent example. Only once did I fall 
down. It was rather difficult turning the pages 
with one hand, and on one occasion I absolutely 
could not find the collect for the day. I had to lean 
over and ask the page from Barnes who was seated 
in the front row. 

My meals were lonely affairs but I used to amuse 



132 CAPTURED 



myself trying to invent new dishes. I was very 
occasionally given a boiled egg as a treat and in- 
stead of a ration of meat. I think the cook's watch 
must have been shell-shocked because sometimes the 
egg would be almost raw and sometimes quite hard. 
A single egg is not very filling so I decided to give 
it that property, if possible, without losing the 
flavour. The result of my experiments can be gath- 
ered from the following quotation from one of my 
letters : 

" I think I have invented a new dish to get the 
most benefit out of an egg. We sometimes get them 
(boiled). Take three or four soda crackers, ac- 
cording to the quantity required, and pulverise 
them thoroughly (this was usually done with the 
clenched fist). Add enough (condensed) milk to 
make the whole a thick creamy mass, butter the 
size of an egg, then stir in the egg thoroughly 
minced if already boiled. Add a pinch of salt and 
cook until the whole is about the consistency of 
scrambled eggs. The result is wonderful. One egg 
makes enough for about three people. Use a raw 
egg if available ! " 

The supply of cabbage seemed to run out and we 
were given instead a very tough lettuce. This, 
when sprinkled with salt and pepper and covered 
with oil from a tin of sardines, was quite palatable. 

On Thursday, Oct. 12th, Dr. Meyer informed me 
that the following Tuesday he would operate to re- 
move the splinters from my arm. On Friday we 



ALONE 133 

heard the Swiss Commission was coming soon to 
the hospital and I decided to present myself. I re- 
membered the trouble that Gray had had, and con- 
fided in the doctor that I wished to go to Switzer- 
land where I would be able to see my family. He 
agreed that my arm would be useless for a year, but 
said he would not let me see the Commission until 
after he had operated. 

The next day there was a strong rumour — we 
were never given any official notice — that the 
Commission would visit the hospital on Tuesday. 
The doctor was unable to operate on Sunday or 
Monday ; but agreed to do it that very morning if I 
had eaten no breakfast, as otherwise it might be 
very dangerous. I was taking no chances on miss- 
ing the operation so said I was starving of hunger. 
I had in reality just finished a royal breakfast of 
cereals and fried sausage. 

The loneliness of my position was impressed on 
me more than ever as I lay in bed for the three 
days following the operation. During this time I 
could not sleep and was given morphia every night. 
I thought a great deal of home and the approach- 
ing Christmas season, and took a great deal of sat- 
isfaction in enclosing, in the letter I wrote while in 
bed, a cheque to buy presents for some of the 
friends who had been so good to me. I was for- 
tunate in having my cheque-book in my pocket at 
the time I was captured. 

On Tuesday afternoon I was told that the Swiss 



134 CAPTURED 



Commission had arrived and that I was to get up 
and go to the French Captain's room and wait till 
I was sent for. Barnes was to see the Commission, 
too, and we could not concentrate our minds on any 
one thing as we waited for the time for our fate to 
be decided. At length the Inspector appeared at 
the door and beckoned to Barnes who went out, 
only to reappear in a few moments wearing a smile 
from ear to ear. We knew that he had passed. I 
was sent for almost immediately. 

In the centre of the Grande Salle was a group 
of patients and German doctors. In their midst 
I could distinguish the three Swiss doctors by their 
high blue caps with the long patent leather peaks. 
I was taken to one side while a sanitaire removed 
the bandages from my arm and displayed a deep 
gash stuffed with iodoform gauze. Presently a 
Swiss doctor approached, examined my arm, and 
asked several questions regarding the loss of move- 
ment in my hand. He was very nice and spoke 
English fluently. It turned out that he had been 
in Canada and had visited in several cities which I 
knew quite well. It was a strange feeling, talking 
to a friendly neutral who was in a position to aid 
you. Dr. Meyer brought up the other two doctors 
and explained my case to them, adding that I was 
very anxious to get to Switzerland to see my wife 
and family! They held a short consultation, and 
then gave some instructions in German to an or- 
derly who sat at a desk writing. The Inspector 



ALONE 135 

whispered in my ear "felicitations" (congratula- 
tions). I had passed the first Commission. I 
hardly knew whether to laugh or cry. I went back 
to the room closely followed by the Inspector, who 
grabbed the French Captain and urged him to pre- 
sent himself for examination. He was finally per- 
suaded to go, and came dashing back in a moment 
to undress. I never saw a man remove his clothes 
so quickly. He was gone a long time and was very 
dejected when he returned. Shrugging his shoul- 
ders he said that the Swiss doctors had been very 
nice to him but had told him that he was too far re- 
covered to be accepted. 

When the excitement had subsided we talked 
over the idea of all living together, as Barnes and I 
had been told that we would not be sent away for 
re-examination in Constance for about three weeks. 
The matter was decided, and in the course of the 
next day or two I moved down, bag, but no baggage. 



CHAPTER XIII 
The French Captain 

The room occupied by the French Captain and 
Barnes had been, before the war, the office of the 
head mistress of the school. It opened off the 
Grande Salle and had two windows overlooking the 
courtyard. Just inside the door, and on the right, 
was a small hand basin. Along the same wall, and 
in the corner next a window, stood my bed and 
locker. Against the opposite wall stood the other 
two beds at the foot of which, and between them, 
was a desk piled with books. The little enclosure 
thus made contained an arm-chair and two lockers. 
A table between my bed and the basin held a back- 
gammon board, a few dishes and the phonograph. 
All this furniture so completely filled the room that 
when you walked in it was almost necessary to 
back out like a crab. 

The French Captain was a charming man of 
about forty years of age. He had entered Lazarett 
VI when it was opened about the end of 1914. 
Since that time he had occupied the same room 
and had there recovered in solitude from his very 
serious wounds. He was an indefatigable worker 
and as soon as he was aWe, commenced the study 

136 



THE FRENCH CAPTAIN 137 

of French law in some books which he had ordered 
from Paris. For a year and a half he lived almost 
alone and kept himself from going mad by very 
hard reading. In sheer desperation he had taken 
up the study of German with a sanitaire and had 
even attempted English by himself. The latter he 
gave up until he commenced again with Moodie. 
His habits were well denned; every day at pre- 
cisely the same hour he did the same thing, whether 
it was the study of a certain language or a walk on 
the balcony. 

By the middle of 1916 he was well enough to go 
to camp but he managed to stay on because he 
took his studies very seriously, and thought that, 
in his little room in hospital, he would have a bet- 
ter opportunity for reading than in camp, where he 
would probably be placed in a room with six or 
seven other men. 

His progress in English was remarkable but, in 
spite of that, our conversations were usually held 
in French. The only time he voluntarily spoke 
English was when we were all in bed. Just as 
Barnes and I were trying to get to sleep he would 
come out with some long sentence he had been plan- 
ning for five or ten minutes. 

Like all other Frenchmen he had an aversion to 
having the window open at night. He insisted that, 
being near the door — which was always closed — 
he felt a draught. My bed was right in front of 
the window in question, but we humoured him and 



138 CAPTURED 



went to bed with the windows closed and the cur- 
tains drawn. As soon as he was asleep one of us 
would slip out of bed and quietly open the window. 

One evening after supper we were sitting, smok- 
ing and discussing various subjects, when the con- 
versation drifted around to home. He told us that 
he had lived in Lille, where his regiment, the 43rd 
Infantry, had been stationed. He had no family 
but lived alone in a small house. His two chief 
sources of amusement were his horse and his 
library. He railed bitterly at the Huns who were 
probably occupying his house and destroying his 
books. We led him on to tell us his experiences 
since the war broke out. 

He told us that when war was declared he was 
on leave, and motoring with some friends in North 
ern France. He was at once recalled to join his 
regiment, and had just time to draw his money from 
the bank and pack his kit before departing for Bel- 
gium. 

The French army was fighting a rear-guard ac- 
tion, and near Namur the 43rd was the last to be 
retired. His battalion was opposed by four regi- 
ments of German Guards and before their advance 
the battalion was retreating one company at a time. 
His company was the last to move, and as they lay 
in the hastily dug trench they saw a whole squad- 
ron of German cavalry, which was dismounted, 
and awaiting orders in what they considered a con- 
cealed position. Four salvos from the famous 



THE FRENCH CAPTAIN 139 

" 75's " annihilated them before they could mount 
and move off. Unfortunately the guns were all too 
scarce and the German hordes moved on. 

When orders came for his company to retire, the 
Captain stayed with the last section to prevent a 
disorderly retreat. Most of the men of that sec- 
tion were killed and our friend fell shot through 
the jaw, the lungs and the body. The enemy passed 
over the trench and a German officer, seeing the 
Frenchman lying helpless, whipped out his re- 
volver and shot him in the thigh. 

A German medical officer who passed by a little 
later, told him he would be dead in the morning, 
that there was no use doing anything for him, and 
giving him a half bottle of stolen champagne, left 
him to die. 

For three days nobody came near the place until 
finally a Belgian peasant, probably searching for 
valuables on the dead, put him in a rough two- 
wheeled wagon and took him back to the farm. 
There he lay for three weeks with no medical atten- 
tion till, eventually, the Germans found him and re- 
moved him to a hospital in Belgium. 

When examined by the doctors he said that the 
wound in his thigh was caused by a shot from a 
German officer's revolver as he lay wounded in a 
trench. This statement was scouted as a lie, for 
they said that no German officer would do such a 
thing! On his medical history sheet there was 
detailed account of the treatment of every wound, 



14d CAPTURED 



but this one — which was the most serious of all, 
and nearly cost him the loss of his leg — was not 
even mentioned. 

When he was well enough to be moved he was 
sent to Lazarett VI which had just been opened, 
and there he had lived for almost two years. 

The first mail that left the hospital after I had 
passed the Swiss Commission was on October 21st. 
On that day I sent a post card home saying that 
there was every possibility of my going to Switzer- 
land, and asking that my parcels should be stopped 
until further notice. This card did not reach Eng- 
land till Dec. 27th. It must have been held for 
over a month, and for no apparent reason, except 
that the Germans did not want the supply of food 
coming into the country to be decreased. 

Every third day since my operation the wound 
had been carefully dressed. There was a great 
shortage of dressings in the hospital and all band- 
ages were washed and used over and over again. 
My arm became infected from, I believe, a dirty 
bandage and I was suddenly laid up for about a 
week with a bad attack of erysipelas. 

I grew very impatient at getting no news as to 
when we were to leave for Constance; I could not 
settle down to work and almost gave up the study 
of French altogether. Most of my time was spent 
in discussing with Barnes the possibility of being 
refused by the second Commission. He was sure 
to go as he had lost one eye, but my case was doubt- 




LIEUT. DOUGLAS, THE FRENCH CAPTAIN AND LIEUT. BARNES IN 
THE COURTYARD OF THE HOSPITAL AT COLOGNE. 



THE FRENCH CAPTAIN 141 

ful. He kept me in good spirits by continually 
telling me how bad my arm was. 

At 2.30 p. M. on Nov. 14th an orderly dashed into 
our room and told us to be ready to leave for Con- 
stance at 3 o'clock. This was very short notice and 
we had a lot to do. It took at least half an hour to 
get out of my hospital clothes and into my uniform. 
Besides that, I had some packing to do and wished 
to make arrangements for the disposal of my par- 
cels in case I should not come back. During that 
half hour pandemonium reigned supreme in our 
room. We were so excited and happy that we 
really did not care much whether we took any bag- 
gage with us or not. 

We hastily donated to the French Captain and 
others articles of which they were in need, and 
which could be replaced quite easily if we got to 
Switzerland. I half expected to be returned to 
the hospital in about a week's time, so left instruc- 
tions w T ith the French Captain to hold my parcels 
against return. If I were accepted I said I would 
let him know, and he promised to see that the most 
needy men in the hospital, but preferably the Eng- 
lishmen, should get the benefit of this extra supply 
of food. 

We had hardly started to pack when we got or- 
ders to send our baggage downstairs to be searched. 
This order was closely followed by another demand- 
ing our immediate appearance in the Inspector's 
office. He informed us that the increase in pay, 



142 CAPTURED 



which we had been given during the last two or 
three months, had not been agreed to by the British 
Government and that we would have to pay back 
the difference before we would be allowed to go to 
Switzerland. Barnes had no money, but fortu- 
nately I had enough to pay for both of us. We 
were each given a very official receipt, and I got in 
notes the balance which stood to my credit. These 
notes were later discounted in Switzerland at the 
rate of 28 per cent. 

The Police Corporal was in charge of the search 
of our baggage and removed my precious steel hel- 
met, saying that it was war material. He told us 
that we were to leave behind all photographs, let- 
ters or papers of any description. These were to 
be placed in an envelope bearing our name and regi- 
ment and after being censored would be forwarded 
to us if we went to Switzerland. I complied with 
this but kept in my pocket the receipt the Inspector 
had just given me, my cheque-book and little diary. 

The hall was crowded with people to see us off. 
Schwester Edelberta, whom we had not seen for 
two weeks, came to say good-bye; she was crying 
and told us that her brother had been killed. About 
ten Englishmen formed the party leaving that day. 
There was a great deal of shaking of hands and giv- 
ing of verbal messages — written messages were 
forbidden — for men who were already in Switzer- 
land. Just before we left one poor fellow came up 
to me and said that he had been passed by the pre- 



THE FRENCH CAPTAIN 143 



vious Commissi on when it had visited Wahn. The 
day the party left there for Constance he was sent 
out to work and thus missed his opportunity of be- 
ing seen by the second Commission. He had since 
been sent to our hospital but arrived just after the 
Swiss doctors had made their last visit. There 
was nothing for him to do but wait till they came 
again. 

I could not help comparing this happy group of 
men who filed out of the hospital door and climbed 
into an ambulance to the similar group that had ar- 
rived, weary and dejected, on June 4th. 



CHAPTER XIV 
Constance 

The ambulance took us to Lazaret I, another hos- 
pital for prisoners in Cologne — where, after a 
short wait, a few more men were added to our party 
and we were whirled off to the railway station. We 
were met by Red Cross orderlies who were very 
kind, and assisted in carrying the baggage of those 
prisoners who were too weak to do so for them- 
selves. The Unteroffizier in command of our guard 
had a railway warrant for a certain number of pris- 
oners and our heads were counted as we passed 
through the wicket. We were obliged to wait for 
about half an hour in the huge hall, but chairs were 
brought for most of us and the rest sat on their suit- 
cases, or on the floor. 

We w r ere eventually led into a second-class res- 
taurant where we found a little group of English 
officers seated at one end of a long table. Most of 
these men were from the same camp and had much 
luggage in the shape of cages of tame canaries, 
home-made musical instruments and such other ar- 
ticles as had served to while away the time during 
their long punishment. After buying a few war 

144 



CONSTANCE 145 



cakes and a cup of coffee, we sat around and talked 
until we were taken out on the station platform. 

At 7 o'clock a train, loaded with prisoners from 
various camps, pulled into the station. We officers 
were allotted certain carriages and climbed on 
board to seek room in some of the compartments 
which were not completely filled. 

By a very strange coincidence Barnes and I got 
into a compartment containing Moodie and Gray 
and also Addie Sime, whom I had not seen since 
our long chat in the trenches on June 1st. We had 
a happy reunion: everybody talked at once and it 
was worse than any women's sewing meeting that 
was ever held ! 

No one slept much that night for the compart- 
ment was too crowded, and besides we had too much 
to say. We talked well on into the night, catching 
occasional dim glimpses of the Rhine and some of 
its famous old castles. We all regretted very much 
that we were not making this trip in the day-time, 
because those who had been in Germany before told 
us that the scenery was wonderful. It was unani- 
mously decided, however, that we would much pre- 
fer to study the scenery in Switzerland. 

We had all brought tinned food to last us for two 
or three days, at the end of which time we expected 
to be on our way back to camp or hospital, or mak- 
ing our way to the promised land where tinned food 
was not required. At about 12 o'clock we decided 
to have a little feed. One of the men produced a 



146 CAPTURED 



loaf of Swiss bread, others, tins of butter, sausages 
and tongue. This was washed down with a drink 
of condensed milk sucked through the hole in the 
tin — and then we felt much better. 

The next day we were interested in seeing the 
women and old men working in the fields. Horses 
were nowhere to be seen, their places being almost 
invariably taken by oxen. On this occasion I don't 
remember noticing one man of military age who 
was not in uniform. 

About noon the train was stopped for an hour on 
a siding. We were taken to a wooden hut close by, 
where we were allowed to purchase an excellent 
meal consisting of soup, very good meat, plenty of 
potatoes and cabbage. We were all surprised at 
the huge portions of meat, and came to the con- 
clusion that this was done to send us from the 
country with the impression that Germany was far 
from starving. 

At 11 o'clock that night we arrived at Constance 
and were thankful to get out on the platform and 
stretch our legs again. A German doctor asked 
those who wished to ride in an ambulance to stand 
on one side. Very few wanted to do this, as they 
preferred to walk and see something of the town. 
A doctor, seeing my arm in a sling and thinking I 
looked weak, placed me on one side with the crip- 
ples. 

A short drive took us to the garrison barracks 
and we were shown into a long, narrow, wooden 



CONSTANCE 147 



building with a row of beds down each side. At the 
far end were a few officers who had arrived on an 
earlier train, and amongst these I was delighted to 
find Lieut. Hubbs of the 4th C. M. R. He greeted 
me with the news that I was dead, and wanted to 
know what I was doing there. I assured him that 
I was very much alive and probably born to be 
hung, as they had failed to kill me on the 2nd of 
June. 

We were each assigned a bed, and proceeded to 
undress immediately as we were very tired after our 
28-hour journey in the train. Shortly afterwards 
the officers who had walked arrived and filled up 
the unoccupied portion of the room, the overflow 
being accounted for by placing the senior officers 
in one of the main buildings which surrounded the 
parade ground. 

We were actually within the walls of a German 
barracks containing troops undergoing training. 
In addition to the main buildings there were rows 
of other structures, similar to the one we were 
in, which formed temporary hospital wards for 
English and French prisoners awaiting the visit of 
the Swiss Commission. Our building contained 
fifty beds. At one end was a room in which our 
baggage was locked, and at the other a small dining- 
room was walled off by a thin partition. Beyond 
this was a short passage-way leading to the door, 
on one side of which was a room occupied by an old 
nurse, and used as a surgery ; on the other side was 



148 CAPTURED 



what had once been a bathroom, but the bath was 
now chiefly used by the orderlies for washing dishes 
and clothes. The place was heated by several 
round stoves for which there seemed to be no lack 
of coal, and was well lit by numerous windows on 
both sides. In the corner next the dining room 
were five beds occupied by the German orderlies. 
At the foot of each hung a sign-board painted with 
the name of the owner — Karl, Franz, Fritz, etc. 

The meals were brought in from a central 
kitchen, and for the first day or two were very 
good. Unfortunately, something had delayed the 
arrival of the Swiss Commission, and, as the Ger- 
man Government did not fancy maintaining the 
luxury in which we were living, the supply of food 
was suddenly reduced. The food we had brought 
with us gave out, and we were reduced to living 
entirely on the German rations, supplemented by 
cheese and sardines which we were able to buy at a 
canteen, established in the barracks by the Swiss 
Red Cross. No one would tell us how long we were 
to be kept in Constance, and we were refused per- 
mission to write and ask to have our parcels and 
letters forwarded. 

At 8 o'clock every morning coffee, and rolls made 
of fairly white flour, were placed on the tables in 
the dining room, and a German orderly would furi- 
ously stamp up and down the ward shouting 
" Schweinerei, auf stehen, Kaffee trinken ! " ( Pigs, 
get up and drink your coffee) . We had nothing to 



CONSTANCE 149 



get up for, and tried to persuade our more energetic 
friends to bring our rolls and cups of coffee along to 
our beds. There was only one roll apiece. The 
early bird got the worm or, in this case, an extra 
roll, and the late-comers had no breakfast. After 
the first day or two this difficulty was overcome by 
an orderly walking up the ward every morning and 
throwing a roll on each bed. He was generally a 
good shot, and managed to hit everybody in the 
small of the back or on the shins so as to be sure to 
wake him up. It was easier to wake a man than to 
force him to get up, and the orderlies were always 
angry because we continually lay in bed. One 
morning Karl put his head in the door and shouted 
" Commission kommt heute Morgan neun Uhr " 
(the Commission is coming this morning at nine 
o'clock). Every man that could, leapt from his 
bed and was completely dressed in a few minutes. 
This trick only worked once. 

The next bright idea was to start sweeping the 
room and raising such a horrible dust that it was 
impossible to lie in bed with comfort. There were 
many men with amputated legs who could not get 
up and escape this form of pleasantry, so for their 
sakes we usually crawled out of bed. 

When we first arrived the lights were extin- 
guished at 9 o'clock, but a delegation to the Com- 
mandant of the camp succeeded in getting us per- 
mission to stay up until 10 o'clock. Karl and his 
friends did not think that we should be allowed 



150 CAPTUEED 



this privilege and did their best to encourage the 
motto " Early to bed, early to rise." 

They started the evening performance by occupy- 
ing the only comfortable chairs in front of the 
stoves in the dining-room where we gathered to 
smoke and play cards or chess. No amount of 
abuse or complaints to the Commandant could 
oust them. About 8:30 or 9 they would open the 
windows — this was late in November and early in 
December — and commence to sweep the dining- 
room. 

In spite of the unpleasantness and uncertainty of 
our life we did our best to be cheerful. The little 
phonograph worked over-time, and many pleasant 
parties were held around the beds of the more seri- 
ously wounded officers. 

Jack Firstbrook of Toronto was one of these. He 
was in the R. F. C. and had been severely wounded 
in an air duel. One bullet which had pierced his 
lungs was still lodged in his body and he was in a 
serious condition. He, Addie Sime and I would 
often discuss our " home town " and talk of the 
people we knew and the good times we had had. 
It was a wonderful thing to be able to transport 
ourselves out of our surroundings and back to the 
days when it seemed that the sun was always shin- 
ing. 

Lieut. Hugh Macdonnell of the Princess Pats, 
who had played football and hockey for Queen's 
University, was there, too, and with him I discussed 



CONSTANCE 151 



everything from football rules to Canadian politics. 

An English officer had a very tame canary which 
he would let free in the dining-room while we were 
sitting playing cards. The bird afforded us much 
amusement by flying from one person's head to an- 
other and pecking furiously at the ear of the pas- 
sive victim, or by perching on the cards which some 
player was holding in his hand and thus seriously 
upsetting the game. At one stern word of com- 
mand from its master the canary would fly back 
through the open door of its cage. 

On one of these occasions there was a game of 
bridge in progress and it was noticed that there 
were only five eyes between the four players ! 

From 10 A. M. till noon, and from 3 to 5 P. M. we 
were allowed out on the parade ground for exercise. 
It was a strange sight — that mixture of crippled 
French and English soldiers — aimlessly going 
round in a large circle, stopping only now and then 
to watch a squad of German recruits being put 
through their drill by an Unteroffizier. 

The German N. C. O., if he wishes to impress a 
certain command on the mind of a soldier, stands 
very close to, and directly in front of him, and 
shouts at the top of his voice. If, after this " gen- 
tle hint," the soldier makes a mistake, he is brutally 
cuffed and told to try again. As a result of such 
treatment the German soldiers are terrified of their 
N. C. O.'s, and will fight hard as long as they are 
directly under their command. But let the N. C. 



152 CAPTURED 



O's. become casualties and up go the hands of the 
German soldiers as if by magic. 

Every morning the nurse came through the ward 
and dressed our wounds. She was a harmless old 
person who meant well but knew very little about 
surgery. After she had once roughly poked the 
iodoform gauze down into my wound, I took the in- 
struments from her and applied all my own dress- 
ings. 

We heard some interesting experiences from men 
who had been taken prisoner at the beginning of 
the war. One officer had been placed in a men's 
camp where they refused to recognize his rank. He 
did not mind this so much as the brutal treatment 
and the terrible food. He had seen men ruthlessly 
shot and bayoneted to death for very trivial rea- 
sons. His life of hardship had given him very bad 
indigestion and for this reason he had been sent to 
Constance to be examined by the Commission. He 
had brought with him two pork pies in order to be 
sure of having a fit of indigestion when the Com- 
mission saw him. Unfortunately these were eaten 
on the occasion of two false alarms about the ar- 
rival of the Commission. He was returned to Ger- 
many. 

J Another young officer had lost his arm above the 
elbow. Every night when we were getting into bed 
he used to amuse us by waving good-night to those 
at the other end of the room and saluting the pass- 
ers-by with his stump. J 



CONSTANCE 153 



When we had been in Constance about two weeks 
we were given our first batch of letters, which we 
were overjoyed to receive as we felt as though we 
had been absolutely cut off from the world. After 
a great deal of discussion permission was also given 
us to write home. 

About December 1st the Commission actually 
came. We were shown, one by one, into a room con- 
taining the Swiss doctors and numerous German 
doctors and officials. We were examined; notes 
were taken about our cases and we left the room 
without being told whether we had been accepted or 
refused. The next three or four days we spent 
comparing notes as to which doctors we had seen 
and what they had said, in an endeavour to find out 
who had passed and who had failed. The Germans 
would tell us nothing. One day an Unteroffizier 
came in with a list of six or seven names. This was 
read out and the officers mentioned were told to 
pack up and leave for camp at once. Almost every 
day a similar list came in and each of us trembled 
for fear his name might be included. 

Gray, Moodie and Addie Sime were victims of 
these lists. 

On December the 5th we were allowed to wire 
for our parcels and the Germans told us we would 
probably spend Christmas in Constance, as our Gov- 
ernment would not agree to the terms of the ex- 
change. 

One day I was talking to a German Unteroffizier 



154 CAPTUKED 



who had a great deal to do with us on account of 
his knowledge of English. \ The conversation 
drifted around to who started the war. He, of 
course, insisted that England was to blame. 

" Do you yourself, in the bottom of your heart, 
really think that England started the war?" I 
asked. 

" Well, you know, we've got to believe it," was his 
reply. There is more truth than poetry in this 
statement. [ 

On December 12th a lot of parcels, which had 
been accumulating for us in camp or hospital, ar- 
rived. They were practically useless as we left the 
next day for Switzerland. I, particularly, got a 
very large number, which the Germans tried to per- 
suade me to leave for them. I refused, and sent to 
the town and bought a large basket-trunk into 
which I packed them all to take to Switzerland, 
whence I hoped to be able to send them back to my 
less fortunate friends. I got permission to write a 
postcard to the French Captain in which I told 
him I was leaving, and asked him to carry out the 
arrangements about my parcels. 

The day we left, that baggage which had not been 
examined and sealed in camp was brought in and 
placed by the owner's bed. We were gathered to- 
gether and asked by a German Major if we had any 
written messages from friends in camp, or if we had 
any gold in our possession. No one spoke. "I 



CONSTANCE 155 



take your word, as English officers and gentlemen, 
that such is the case/' said the Major. 

The Germans have a high respect for the word of 
an Englishman : I'm afraid the feeling is far from 

mutual. 

Our persons were not searched, but the baggage 
was thoroughly examined, after which it was 
packed, labelled and carted off to the station. 

My feelings about this time can be gathered from 
the following extract from my first letter home after 
leaving Germany: 

" As you know by now, of course, I am in Switzer- 
land, or at least I think I am. Every minute I ex- 
pect to wake up and hear some Hun shouting, i Auf- 
stehen, Kaffee trinken.' I wrote you from Con- 
stance but you probably never got the letters. 
Permission to write was given very grudgingly. 
We arrived there November 15th. There were 63 
of us at first. We were there for a month and the 
whole stay was nothing but a series of disappoint- 
ments. The first was that the Commission would 
not be able to see us for some time and we had come 
prepared for a few days' stay only. All our tinned 
stuff was left behind in camp or hospital. We had 
to fall back on the horrible German rations — 
mostly cabbage, with cabbage on the side as a veg- 
etable and again as an entree. Suddenly, as a bolt 
from the blue, a Guillotine list was read out con- 
taining the names of eight senior officers who were 



156 CAPTURED 



to go back to camp. It was some sort of a reprisal, 
I am sure. 

" We saw the Commission and then no one knew 
whether he had passed or not. They wouldn't tell 
us. Guillotine lists became frequent. I managed 
to escape them all but was still in Constance with 
thirty-two other officers on Dec. 12 when two lists 
came in including us all. One party of thirteen 
was to leave at 6 a. m. on the 13th for one camp, 
and the rest of us in the evening for another. We 
weren't very hopeful, but kept cheerful. As soon 
as the first lot had gone we were told that the rest 
of us were to leave for Switzerland that night. 
You never heard such a cheer as went up. We 
were all running around in our pajamas, shaking 
hands and hugging each other. Even then we 
didn't really believe we were going till we got on 
the train at 6. The train wasn't to leave till 7.50 
but I suppose they were afraid we might miss it. 
No — fear ! " 



CHAPTER XV 

Switzerland at Last 

With what a sigh of relief we settled back into 
the plush seats of that Swiss train ! We were trav- 
elling in first class carriages just as though we had 
paid our fare. A very nice Swiss officer, followed 
by several stretcher-bearers, came through to see 
that we were all comfortable and asked us if there 
were anything we wanted. The only thing we 
could think of was a large brick to hurl at the Ger- 
mans standing on the station platform, but we did 
not tell him this. We acted just as though we were 
dining with wealthy friends whom we hardly knew. 

On the train were 414 English Tommies and 20 
officers. There was a comfortable seat for every 
man who could sit up, and there were hospital cars 
for the stretcher cases. I doubt if, in the whole 
world, at that moment, there were a happier lot of 
men. But there wasn't a cheer or any other sign of 
joy. We were still on German territory and before 
we crossed the border a wheel might come off the 
engine or there might be an earthquake. We were 
taking no chances ! 

Just after the train pulled out of the station we 
entered Switzerland. We were out of the hands of 

157 



158 CAPTURED 



the Huns at last. We looked out of the windows 
and saw women and children standing in the snow 
outside their doors, waving' handkerchiefs and 
shouting, " Vive PAngleterre." A spontaneous 
cheer w r ent up from every man. It was the most 
thrilling moment of our lives. 

As we were whirled on through the night the 
cheering and waving continued until the train 
made its first stop in a Swiss town. The station 
platform was packed with people who crowded to 
the car windows and showered us with flowers, 
chocolate, cigarettes and cigars. This was carried 
out not only by the girls in their smart Red Cross 
uniforms, but many civilians made private dona- 
tions as well. 

As the train pulled out of the station the men 
hung out of the windows cheering and waving the 
Swiss flags that had been given them. It was a 
wonderful sensation to feel that we were really wel- 
come in Switzerland. The personal element had 
recently so absolutely disappeared from our lives 
that this sudden show of enthusiasm brought lumps 
to our throats. 

A British Government official had boarded the 
train and brought with him an armful of London 
papers. With the exception of the Continental 
Times, a pro-German paper published in Germany 
and distributed free amongst the prisoners in order 
to try and discourage them, we had not seen a news- 
paper printed in English since we had been cap- 




■ ■-■■■ »•" «.' ■•- *» .-if- , 




MURREN, SWITZERLAND— THE UPPER VILLAGE ON THE 
EDGE OF THE PRECIPICE. 



SWITZERLAND AT LAST 159 

tured. He also produced several pads of cable 
forms. Imagine being able to send a cable to some- 
one and have it arrive! It seems to me that we 
wrote cables to almost every person whose first 
name we knew. My cable home to Canada arrived 
in five hours, thanks to the consideration of the cen- 
sors, and was the first intimation my family had 
that there was even a possibility of my going to 
Switzerland. You will remember that my letters 
and postcards, suggesting a move, had been held up. 

At every station where the train stopped our re- 
ception was just as enthusiastic until, at 12 o'clock, 
when we arrived at Berne, the climax was reached. 
Here we were met by several English staff officers, 
members of the British Legation, and a crowd of 
charming English and American ladies who es- 
corted us to the station restaurant to a regular ban- 
quet. All these months we had dreamed of a meal 
like this and at last our dreams were to be realised. 
The ladies were kindness itself. They cut up the 
meat for those of us who had " game " arms, and 
then sat and talked to us — but not about the war, 
thank goodness. 

Before leaving Constance a tag indicating our 
final destination in Switzerland had been tied on 
each of us. Those who were to go to Chateau 
d'Oex left at 3 a. m. — Barnes was included in this 
party. The rest of us left at 6 a. m. for Murren, 
and a large number of those kind ladies stayed in 
the station until we had all gone. 



160 CAPTUEED 



The Mtirren party consisted of nine officers and 
about two hundred men. We were accompanied by 
some of the officers who were already stationed in 
Mtirren, and Capt. Llopart, the Swiss medical of- 
ficer in charge of the interned at that place, who 
had come to Berne to meet us. 

As we ran along the shores of Lake Thun the 
Jungfrau Mountain was pointed out and we were 
told that it was directly opposite our new home. 
At Interlaken we took another train which, cross- 
ing and recrossing a mountain stream, wound its 
way slowly up a valley until, about 8 o'clock, it ar- 
rived at Lauterbrunnen, a little village nestling in 
the bottom of a valley, whose walls towered up al- 
most perpendicularly on both sides. 

Here we were given a real Swiss breakfast of 
coffee, rolls, butter and honey. Not far away was 
a small barber's shop with one barber. As soon as 
breakfast was over the more particular ones stam- 
peded to get in line for a much needed shave. 
Major A. Kirkpatrick, of Toronto, had grown, while 
in Germany, a very luxuriant beard: he returned 
from the barber's shop minus this decoration, and 
looking so handsome that nobody knew him. 

About 9 o'clock we were asked, not ordered, to 
come to the station at the foot of the funiculaire, 
the little mountain railway which was to take us 
up to a much higher altitude. The funiculaire con- 
sisted of two small cars, holding about fifty people, 
one of which was fastened at each end of a long 



SWITZERLAND AT LAST 161 

steel cable. There was a single track, over a mile 
long, which rose at an angle of about 45 degrees. 
As one car went up the other came down, the two 
passing in the middle at a point where the track 
was made double for this purpose. While the first 
fifty of us were boarding the car, a compartment at 
one end was loaded with, what we considered, an 
enormous amount of baggage and freight. We 
noted the steepness of the incline and glanced at 
the steel cable, which, though very strong, did not 
seem to us strong enough to negotiate that heavy 
load. Having stared death in the face so many 
times before and come through successfully, we did 
not wish to die unheroically by the snapping of 
that cable. The Swiss officer got on board and we 
decided that if he, knowing all about it, was willing 
to take a chance, we would too. 

As the car crawled slowly up the side of the 
mountain the valley below was unfolded to our 
gaze, and we had a glorious view of the wonderful 
mountains from which the snow never departs. At 
that season of the year snow was everywhere. 
There had been a great fall during the night, which 
clung to the branches of the fir trees and glistened 
in the rays of the early morning sun. 

At the top of the funiculaire we changed into a 
very modern electric car, which bore us along 
tracks cut out of the side of the mountain until we 
arrived at Mtirren, a small cluster of houses and 
hotels perched ©n the very edge of a precipice. A 



162 (WITURED 



crowd of English Tommies, who had been released 
from Germany in August of (hat year, were at the 
station to meet us, Waving flags ami ringing cow- 
bells, they welcomed us, while one of the men 
played u Borne Sweet Borne" on a cornet, As we 
emerged from the station three rousing British 
cheers again brought the lumps to our throats, 

We were escorted through the snow (o our vari 
ons hotels where most of us went promptly to bed. 
Personally I was almost exhausted, and will never 
forget the feeling of satisfaction with which 1 
Climbed into the bed with its two soft mattresses 
and two soft pillows; and as I pulled up the clothes, 
I don't even remember them reaching my chin. 



CHAPTER XVI 

MURREN 

The first few days of our stay in Murren were 
spent in an interested inspection of our surround- 
ings. The town is situated on a small plateau — 
over a mile above sea-level — and overlooks a preci- 
pice which drops about 3,000 feet to the valley be- 
low. On the other side of the valley tower up the 
triple peaks of the Eiger, Monk and Jungfrau, from 
which at frequent intervals huge avalanches come 
thundering down, to carry away large stretches of 
forest on the lower slopes of the mountain. Be- 
hind the town, the Amendhubel — a hill well 
known to all the Interned at Murren — rises to the 
height of 1,000 feet; and behind this is the Schilt- 
horn, and other peaks favoured by the less adven- 
turous mountain climbers. 

Murren is literally a one-horse town. The horse 
is used to help the soldiers drag coal and baggage 
from the station to the hotel. There is only one 
level road, a few hundred yards long, and along this 
are found half a dozen little shops which, before the 
war, catered to the immediate needs of the English 
tourists who filled the hotels. Most of these shops 
had been shut for the two years between the declar- 

163 



164 CAPTURED 



ation of war and the arrival of the first British In- 
terned at Murren. 

All the officers and some of the men were quar- 
tered in the Palace Hotel, the rest of the men being 
distributed among seven other hotels. We were all 
treated as guests; our daily board — six francs 
(fl.20) for the officers and four francs (80c.) for 
the men, together with a small sum for heat — was 
paid directly to the management by the British Gov- 
ernment. The hotel keepers were glad to get guests 
even at this low rate, as they were thus able to keep 
their establishments running and accommodate the 
few civilian visitors who came to Murren; a con- 
siderable number of officers, and some of the men, 
had their families permanently visiting them. 

The medical services were in the charge of Capt. 
Llopart, who was aided by several doctors, ap- 
pointed from the French part of Switzerland, who 
did a six weeks' tour of duty in Murren. Each man 
was examined on arrival and his treatment pre- 
scribed. Those who needed operations were sent to 
various hospitals in the large towns of Switzerland, 
where their expenses were paid by the British Gov- 
ernment ; those who were to have massage and me- 
chanical treatment received it at Murren, in a room 
equipped for this purpose. 

A Swiss combatant officer held the position of 
Commandant de Place and was responsible for the 
discipline of the camp. He held office every morn- 
ing and administered punishment for breaches of 



MURREN 165 



discipline, being advised in this by a British of- 
ficer appointed as his adjutant. 

The Senior British officer was directly in com- 
mand of all the Interned at Murren. He organised 
the canip on the old established principles of the 
British Army. We were fortunate in having as 
S. B. 0., Lieut.-Col. F. H. Neish of the Gordon 
Highlanders. He took a keen interest in every- 
thing that went on and, with the help of very able 
assistants, succeeded in creating a system which 
cared for the moral, spiritual and physical welfare 
of the men. 

Orderly officers were appointed weekly, to inspect 
the hotels, rectify any minor complaints, and in- 
sist on order and cleanliness. 

In each hotel the senior N. C. O. was known as 
the Chief of Establishment, and did duties similar 
to those of a Company Sergeant Major. 

A school was organised under an army school- 
master sent out from England and, after examina- 
tion, the successful men were given their Army cer- 
tificates. 

Numerous work shops were opened, not only to 
do very necessary repair work, but also as a means 
of instructing untrained men in trades they could 
follow after the war. There was a carpenter's 
shop, shoemaker's shop, tailor's shop, etc. 

Later on a printing shop was started under the 
direction of Lieut. Hubbs. A press and type were 
bought and the men were taught type-setting and 



166 CAPTURED 



printing. A magazine called the B. I. M. — Brit- 
ish Interned Miirren — was published every fort- 
night, and served to amuse the men, as well as to 
establish a permanent record of doings in Miirren. 

Perhaps the most attractive form of instruction 
was given by the school of motor mechanism under 
Lieut. Wallis. A chassis was donated by a Swiss 
automobile firm and on it the pupils learned to be 
very expert motor mechanics. The school was 
later moved to Vevey where instruction in driving 
could be given. Most of the graduates of this 
school obtained positions as chauffeurs and me- 
chanics during their stay in Switzerland. 

The British Red Cross, with headquarters at 
Berne, usually supplied the necessary capital to 
start any new venture, but in most cases the money 
was soon paid back out of the profits. 

Everything possible was done to entertain the 
men and make their lot more pleasant. A rink was 
built for the use of those whose condition allowed 
them to skate, and on it many carnivals and com- 
petitions of various sorts were held. A hockey 
team was organised from among the fifty Canadi- 
ans, and, although all the players were crippled in 
some way, they succeeded in defeating almost every 
Swiss team they played. 

There was a bob-run three kilometres (about two 
miles) long which, after some work, was cleared 
and put in working order. A funiculaire ran up 
the Almendhubel and carried the more energetic 




MURREN MILITARY PRINTING OFFICE. 

LIEUT. DOUGLAS AND TWO OF HIS STAFF AT WORK ON THE "b. I. M." 




CARPENTERS SHOP. 

A CORNER OF THE SHOP WHERE MEN WERE TAUGHT THE USE 

OF SAW AND HAMMER. 



MURREN 167 



and healthy members of the community to the top 
of the run, which wound around a little valley and 
finished conveniently close to the lower station of 
the funiculaire. 

Skiing was another very popular form of amuse- 
ment. I was very much interested by this fasci- 
nating sport and, when strong enough, bought a 
pair of skis and proceeded to learn. My first at- 
tempt at a real run netted me a strained knee and 
ankle, and two cracked ribs, but fortunately no 
damage to my arm. After several days in bed I 
began again, w T ith much more success. 

Soon after my arrival in Switzerland I received 
a cable from home asking me to " Cable condition 
of arm and general health." My poor family had 
endured some rude shocks. About June 5th I was 
reported " missing," and then later, " missing, be- 
lieved killed." This time they had received no in- 
timation that I might come to Switzerland, and 
thought that the change meant that I was at the 
point of death! I cabled back asking for my 
skates; that satisfied them. 

Just before Christmas, the party of officers and 
men who had been sent back from Constance on 
the morning of Dec. 13th, arrived in Switzerland. 
We could thoroughly appreciate the joy with which 
those who were sent to Murren stepped off the elec- 
tric car. 

Christmas day was very festive. In the after- 
noon there was a Christmas tree in the ball-room 



168 CAPTURED 



of the Palace Hotel for the men quartered there, 
and each one received a small present donated by 
generous Swiss manufacturers. In the evening a 
special dinner was provided, followed by dancing 
to the music of the Mtirren band. Think of it ! 

Every Saturday night there was a dance for the 
officers, and every Thursday night a dancing class 
for the men, at which all the officers' wives and 
sisters offered themselves as partners for the will- 
ing pupils. 

We Canadian officers had a bigger treat in store 
for us on Christmas night. Lieut. J. E. McLurg 
and Mrs. McLurg, of Sault Ste. Marie, lived in a 
little chalet not far from the hotel. They invited 
us all to a real Christmas dinner with turkey and 
cranberry sauce, and pie — the kind of pie that 
" Mother used to make." When the meal was over 
Mr. McLurg passed around his best cigars and the 
reminiscences began. We all had a wonderful 
time and concluded the jolly evening by gathering 
around the piano and singing a lot of songs that 
had been popular when we left Canada. 

We were all far from home and strangers in a 
strange land, and on that one day of the year, 
when everyone wants to be at home, we warmly 
appreciated Mrs. McLurg's efforts to make us feel 
that we were not forgotten. 

After Christmas the days passed by uneventfully. 
There was a good deal of work to be done, especially 
when it snowed hard. The rink, the bob-run, the 



MtfKREN 169 



roads and the railway track all had to be kept 
cleared. For this purpose all the men who had 
been passed by the doctors as fit for work were 
formed up every morning, and the required number 
selected. How these men did hate it too! For 
months and months in Germany they had been re- 
fusing to work in spite of severe punishment, and 
now they had to do it whether they liked it or not. 
A gentle reminder of the hardships their comrades 
in Germany and France were enduring put a quick 
stop to any unnecessary grousing. 

When we had been in Murren about a month we 
cast our eyes to the tops of the mountains and won- 
dered what was beyond, and if it were possible to 
go and look for ourselves. We soon found out that 
we could not be away from Murren overnight with- 
out a pass signed by the Commandant de Place, and 
only given with a good excuse. It was rather hard 
to find a sick relative in Switzerland so we did not 
do much sight-seeing. 

Switzerland is divided into two parts — one 
French and one German — which speak the lan- 
guage of the country on which they border. The 
Germans who are interned in Switzerland are 
confined to the German part, and the French and 
English are scattered over the French half of the 
country. There is very little mixing of enemies, 
except in one or two cities which boast large hospi- 
tals, where it is necessary to send men of all na- 
tionalities for treatment. In these cities miniature 



170 CAPTURED 



wars are avoided by confining the Germans to their 
quarters on certain days of the week when the Al- 
lies are allowed out, and vice versa. 

Berne is the capital of Switzerland and the melt- 
ing pot of the country. An English Tommy — an 
ex-prize fighter — was walking alone on the street 
of Berne when three Germans, thinking it was safe 
to attack a lonely Englishman, sprang on him. He 
knocked two of them unconscious on the side-walk, 
but was unable to catch the third ! 

I had become great friends with an English cap- 
tain named Brewster. We both needed operations 
and decided to go to Lausanne, where we could have 
the services of one of the best surgeons in the world. 
We had heard that it was possible to obtain per- 
mission to attend a university. I was very anxious 
to continue my study of French, and we both 
wanted to study Lausanne and Lake Geneva. 
Eventually we were transferred to the Lausanne 
district for the purpose of having our operations 
and later attending the university of that city. 

Not long before we left, Jack Firstbrook, who, on 
coming from Germany, had been placed in a hos- 
pital in Berne on account of his weak condition, 
arrived in Mtirren with his father and mother. 
Mrs. Firstbrook soon took all the Canadians under 
her wing, and thanks to her and Mrs. McLurg, we 
had many a congenial afternoon tea-party. 

Things were very pleasant in Mtirren ; the skiing 
and curling were good, and I would gladly have 



MURREN 171 



stayed on till the snow left, but my arm was giving 
me trouble, and Brewster had been in this one spot 
since August and was becoming restless, so, on 
March 5th, we departed for Lausanne. 



CHAPTEE XVII 

Lausanne ! 

Switzerland is a strange country in time of war. 
Every belligerent nation lias its official representa- 
tives in this little oasis in the desert of war. Be- 
sides that, the country is teeming with spies and 
deserters. In towns exclusively devoted to in- 
terned prisoners this melange of nationalities is not 
so pronounced, but in Lausanne one hardly dares 
make a new acquaintance without first ascertaining 
the life history of the person in question. 

Brewster and I had a lively time during the three 
weeks we spent waiting for accommodation in the 
hospital. We eventually got to know the danger- 
ous characters by sight and carefully avoided being 
brought into touch with them. However, we did 
make the acquaintance of many charming people — 
chiefly American and Swiss — and were shown 
great hospitality. 

The day after we were admitted to hospital I had 
a sudden attack of appendicitis and was at once 
operated upon. I thanked my lucky stars that I 
was not still in Germany, for complications set in, 
and a second operation was necessary. Skilful 

172 



LAUSANNE ! 173 



medical attention and careful nursing pulled me 
through a critical stage. 

Brewster had the operation on his leg and we 
shared a private ward. We were the first English 
officers that had ever been in that hospital and at- 
tracted, for that reason, a considerable amount of 
attention. Our room was continually filled with 
flowers and we had numerous visits from our ac- 
quaintances, who showered us with gifts. One 
motherly Swiss lady kept us supplied with home- 
made jelly. 

We saw a good deal of several French officers 
who had come there to have the mistakes of the 
German doctors rectified. One of these had had a 
most trying time. His thigh-bone had been shat- 
tered, and after months in plaster the bone had 
finally knitted. One day he was being carried 
downstairs by some German orderlies who dropped 
him and broke his leg again. After several months 
more of agony the bone finally knitted, but in such 
a manner that the joint formed almost a right 
angle. His leg was very much shorter and prac- 
tically useless. In the hospital in Lausanne the 
bone had to be broken again ; a pin was put through 
the knee, weights were attached to it, and the poor 
fellow had again to endure sleepless weeks of tor- 
ture in an endeavour to finally overcome the re- 
sults of over a year of careless treatment. 

While sitting around a cosy wood fire and en- 
tertaining our friends at afternoon tea we often 



174: /CAPTURED 



contrasted our life there with the months spent in 
German hospitals. It was a wonderful thing to be 
again amongst sympathetic people. 

After six weeks I was discharged from hospital, 
the operation on my arm being postponed until I 
was stronger. About a month later Brewster 
joined me at the little hotel on the shore of Lake 
Geneva where I had taken up my abode. We reg- 
istered at the University. Brewster, who had 
lived in Paris and spoke French fluently, took up 
engineering, but I enrolled in a course in the 
French language. Seven or eight English Tom- 
mies attended the same lectures as I, and the pro- 
fessor was most skilful in detecting, from their ac- 
cent, the particular part of England from which 
they came. 

During our spare time we did a great deal of 
sailing and I played tennis almost every day. Life 
in Lausanne was pleasant but we were never able 
to forget that we were prisoners of war and unable 
to go home. 

I eventually had the operation on my arm but 
managed to avoid a further stay in hospital. I had 
had over eight months of hospital life and did not 
relish the idea of another session. Accordingly I 
arranged with Brewster to bring me back in a taxi 
to the hotel after the operation. I was three hours 
under the anaesthetic and was put in a ward full 
of Frenchmen to recover. For some unaccount- 
able reason, when I came to I was thinking in 





MURREN VARIETY ENTERTAINMENT COMPANY AND PIERROT 
TROUPE, COMPOSED ENTIRELY OF INTERNED PRISONERS. 



LAUSANNE ! 175 



French, and shouting, "A bas les Boches! 
Cochons!" (Down with the Huns! Pigs!) etc. 
Whenever I went back to the hospital for a dressing, 
these men would smile at me and say, " A bas les 
Boches ! " 

Brewster wrapped me in rugs and hurried me to 
the hotel, where the concierge was sent for to help 
me to my room. He, poor fellow, thought I was 
drunk, and handled me in the patronising way 
usually employed towards gentlemen in this state. 
A kind English lady who knew what had happened 
came to see if there were anything she could do. 
The concierge waved her aside, saying, in French, 
" He's alright, Madame. Leave him alone, he will 
be quite right after a little sleep ! " 

While we were in Lausanne the United States 
declared war on Germany. A sigh of relief went 
up from every Ally. At last the whole English- 
speaking world was fighting, side by side, for Jus- 
tice and Eight. We Canadians felt that now we 
could shake our cousins to the South by the hand, 
and welcome them to the greatest of all undertak- 
ings, and that after the war there would not be 
the feeling of reproach which we had dreaded so 
much. We all realised the tremendous power of 
our new Ally, and hoped, from a selfish point of 
view, that her assistance might bring the war to a 
speedy close and so hasten our return to our 
homes and families. 

Towards the end of July, one of the officers stay- 



176 CAPTURED 



ing in our hotel received a telephone message from 
Chateau D'Oex to the effect that the British and 
German Governments had come to terms regarding 
the repatriation of certain interned prisoners of 
war, and that before long we might expect to be 
visited by a Swiss Commission, to select those eli- 
gible to go home. Naturally, this caused a great 
flutter of excitement. We had been expecting it 
for some time past as, at the railway-station of 
Lausanne, we had said good-bye to large numbers 
of our French comrades, on their way back to their 
native land. 

About the same time as we received this good 
news the University closed, and the doctor with 
whom Brewster and I had been taking massage and 
mechanical treatment decided to go away for a 
holiday. We had no excuse left for staying longer 
in Lausanne and, on August 1st, we, together with 
several others, were recalled to Mtirren to take over 
some of the duties which were falling rather heavily 
on the few remaining officers. 



CHAPTER XVIII 
Back to Murren — Repatriation 

As soon as we arrived in Mtirren we were each 
assigned duties. Lieut. Hubbs had been sent away 
in charge of a party of men to do some civic work 
for the Swiss Government, and I was appointed his 
successor as editor of the B. I. M., and business 
manager of the printing office. This meant a lot 
of hard work, but I thoroughly enjoyed having 
something to do, productive of tangible results. 
The subject of my first editorial was Mr. Woods, 
who had rendered such valuable service in caring 
for the teeth of the men. I will quote some parts 
of this article as illustrating the way in which this 
work was carried on : 

" There is hardly a man in Murren who has not 
paid a visit to the bright and cheery rooms of our 
dentist, Mr. J. A. Woods. In doing so, few of them 
realised what a privilege was being accorded them. 
... In spite of his formidable official titles, every- 
one agrees that he is one of the nicest men they 
ever met. 

" As soon as Mr. Woods heard that British pris- 
oners were to be interned in Switzerland he at once 

applied for permission to come here, and give them 

177 



178 CAPTURED 



the benefit of his services. He alone knows the 
difficulties he had to surmount before he finally ar- 
rived in Mtirren, on 17th August, 1916, just a few 
days after the first batch of prisoners. He had to 
bring all his instruments with him as personal lug- 
gage, but did it so effectively that he now has two 
bedrooms and a bathroom in the Palace Hotel 
transformed into the finest dental operating rooms 
in Switzerland. He also enjoys the unique posi- 
tion of practising at a higher altitude than any 
other dentist in Europe. 

" Mr. Woods wasted no time in commencing his 
work. He at once asked for lists of men, classified 
according to the degree of urgency, who wished den- 
tal treatment. Two hundred of the original four 
hundred at once sent in their names. Each case 
was given individual treatment, and the patients 
were made to feel that they were being treated by 
their own dentist, and not in a clinic. The same 
system was followed with the second and third 
batches of men who came in December. There 
never was any compulsion used; all the patients 
came of their own free will. A tribute to Mr. 
Woods' efficiency is the fact that 99 per cent of the 
officers and about 80 per cent of the men have 
presented themselves to him for treatment. Mr. 
Woods keeps an exact record of every patient, and 
below will be found some interesting statistics of 
his work during the past year. 



BACK TO MURREN — REPATRIATION 179 

Number of different patients over 700 

Visits to room nearly 3,000 

Operations 4,500 

Pro thesis (Artificial dentures, special 
appliances for jaw injuries, etc.) 368 

" Mr. Woods has visited Wengen, Chateau d'Oex 
and other places, attending to 533 urgent cases 
amongst the French and English soldiers. As a 
result of these visits another Dental Surgeon, Mr. 
W. J. Law, has been sent to the Chateau d'Oex 
district. 

"We all appreciate the generous way in which 
Mr. Woods gave up his large practice in Liverpool 
and, at enormous personal expense, came here to 
Switzerland to give us the benefit of his wide ex- 
perience. All his work has been entirely gratu- 
itous. If he had not undertaken it, no one else 
would. We all take off our hats to a man who is 
doing his bit, and doing it well." 

While we were in Lausanne many improvements 
had been made in the camp at Murren. Signboards 
had been erected calling all the little foot-paths by 
the names of the best known London streets, such 
as Piccadilly, Strand, etc. A large finger-post at 
the station pointed in a north-westerly direction, 
and was marked " Blighty." 

A new Y. M. C. A. hut had been erected and was 
as well patronised as the Red Triangle huts on the 
Western front. This one had an attraction which 



180 CAPTURED 



was lacking elsewhere, in having ladies to assist in 
serving the tea, which was very good in spite of 
the following limerick composed by one of the men : 

"The tea at the Y. M. C. A. 
Is weaker than ever they say ; 

When they try to pour out, 

It just stops in the spout, 
It's too feeble to come all the way." 

A moving picture show had been started, and, 
on Thursday and Friday afternoon and evening, 
the ball-room of the Palace Hotel was filled with 
Tommies thoroughly enjoying everything from 
Charlie Chaplin to the latest war film. 

A variety entertainment company, composed en- 
tirely of interned prisoners, gave very good per- 
formances at regular intervals, and smoking con- 
certs were frequently arranged in the various ho- 
tels. 

Through the generosity of the people in England, 
an arrangement had been made whereby the sol- 
diers' wives, in groups of eighteen, were sent free 
of charge to spend two weeks with their husbands 
in Switzerland. If a man were not married his 
mother was allowed to come instead. In this way 
many couples were reunited after three years of 
separation. 

If an interned soldier were contemplating mar- 
riage, his fiancee would be sent out with a party of 
wives and mothers, and the ceremony would be held 
in Switzerland. The Tommies took a great delight 



BACK TO MURREN — REPATRIATION 181 

in making these affairs successful. In winter the 
bride was usually dragged to the church on a large 
sleigh decorated with the Union Jack, and confetti 
was always abundant. On one occasion there were 
six weddings in one day at Mtirren. 

The most unique wedding I ever saw was that of 
Lieut. Hedges. He had been badly wounded at the 
Somme and had lost one leg. He and several other 
officers in the same condition had been at Con- 
stance with me. As they were all limited to the 
same sort of amusements they were always together 
in Switzerland. During the summer of 1917 
Hedges decided to get married, and came to Lau- 
sanne for the happy event. His one-legged friends 
came with him, one of whom acted as best man, and 
the others as ushers. When the knot had been tied 
these always cheerful heroes formed an arch of 
crutches, under which the bride and groom passed 
on leaving the church. A small boy presented the 
bride with a bouquet, and the whole party drove off 
amidst the cheers of the onlookers. 

There was a South African officer with one arm 
who had been taken prisoner on the Somme who 
had, what I consider, a rather ghastly experience. 
He had received a bullet wound in the elbow which, 
though not serious, caused his temperature to rise. 
The German doctor who was attending him said 
that the reason for the fever was that the hole in 
his arm was not big enough to allow the pus to 
escape. He advised a small operation to open and 



182 CAPTURED 



clean out the wound. When the officer awoke from 
the anaesthetic he was lying on his back in bed, 
and unconsciously moved his hand across his chest 
where his wounded arm usually lay. The arm was 
not there. He feverishly felt his body until he 
came to a large dressing over the stump of his arm, 
which had been amputated. He almost fainted 
dead away with the shock. He shouted frantically 
for the nurse and demanded to see the doctor. She 
refused to call him. The officer started to climb 
out of bed, saying that he would go to the doctor 
if she would not fetch him. Eventually the doctor 
appeared and received the worst abuse he had ever 
had in his life — but it was too late. 

I spoke to a great number of men who had had 
limbs amputated, and in almost every case the bone 
was not cut far enough back to allow the flesh to 
grow over the end and form a cushion for an ar- 
tificial limb. A friend of mine, who had lost a leg 
in this way, told me that he had complained to a 
German surgeon about this method of amputation, 
and asked him why it was done. The German's re- 
ply was : " Well, you know, that's what the French 
and English are doing to our prisoners." 

A private who had been taken prisoner at Mons 
told me that, in one camp he had been in, there 
were about three thousand prisoners, mostly Rus- 
sian and French. The camp was divided by a road 
into two separate enclosures. In one of these en- 




THE WEDDING OF LIEUT. HEDGES. 



BACK TO MURREN — REPATRIATION 183 

closures were about a thousand men who had to 
go to the main camp every day for their meals. 
There were two gates side by side — a small one 
reserved for Germans, and a larger one for the use 
of the prisoners. At meal times the men used to 
crowd around the gate, waiting for the order to 
pass through to draw their rations in the other en- 
closure. They were always hungry and impatient, 
and one day an English sailor and a couple of 
Tommies found themselves being forced through 
the small gate by the crowd in the rear. The sen- 
try shouted at them to go back but they were un- 
able to do so on account of the pressure from be- 
hind. Once more the sentry shouted " Zurtick ! " 
(Back!) and then ran his bayonet through the 
sailor and pulled the trigger to facilitate the with- 
drawal of the weapon. The bullet killed one of 
the English Tommies and wounded the other. 

Another private who had been taken prisoner at 
the beginning of the war told me how the men in 
his camp had been tied with their backs to a post, 
their toes just touching the ground, and left there 
for hours on end, as a punishment for refusing to 
work. 

If one of the men in a hut had committed a 
trivial crime, such as smoking indoors, and the 
Germans were unable to find out who was the cul- 
prit, every man in that hut would be stood at atten- 
tion all day, in bitter weather, with only a single 



184 CAPTUKED 



bowl of soup as nourishment. The punishment 
would be repeated day after day, until the man con- 
fessed in order to save his comrades. 

Men who had received treatment such as this 
thoroughly appreciated the comfort in which they 
were living in Switzerland, but still they longed to 
see Blighty once again, and could appreciate some 
of the sentiments expressed in the following article, 
quoted from an August number of the B. I. M.: 

" Interned Prisoners of War are a species of ani- 
mal usually found in a neutral country. The word 
i interned' comes from the Latin ' ino/ meaning 
* fed/ and ' ternus/ meaning ' up.' They are used 
in the winter for moving large quantities of snow 
from one place to another, and in the summer for 
doing the same thing with rocks and gravel. 

" They are amusing creatures to watch. They 
live in large communities like the bees. These com- 
munities or establishments, as they are scientifically 
called, are presided over by what is known as a 
Chief of Establishment, something similar to the 
' Queen Bee.' Unlike the latter, the Chief of Es- 
tablishment does not lay the eggs which produce 
the other Prisoners of War. These are hatched out 
in the mud of France and elsewhere, usually in a 
hollow in the ground, called a shell-hole. 

" The chief vice of the Interned Prisoner of War 
is playing football, cricket, hockey, etc. They are 
so depraved that at times they will indulge in 
these vices in the pouring rain. The only way they 



BACK TO MtJRREN — REPATRIATION 185 

can be tempted to desist is by the offer of a meal. 
They spend their spare time in having operations 
and attempting to get leave. 

" There are different species of Interned Prison- 
ers of War. There are the Scotch, English, Irish, 
Australian and Canadian. The latter have not red 
skins, as some people suppose. 

" There is also another species called Officers, 
who spend most of their time seeing that the others 
are wearing their own boots, and don't take a bath 
before it is necessary. 

" The Interned Prisoners of War are sometimes 
soldiers. They arrange themselves in long rows to 
present a formidable appearance on certain feast 
days. They are very religious, and believe that 
some day they will go to a country where they have 
homes, friends and relations." 

We soon learned that the rumour that a certain 
number of Englishmen were to be repatriated had 
been confirmed. At a conference held at the 
Hague an agreement had been come to between the 
British and German Governments, for the exchange 
of interned prisoners in Switzerland on practically 
the same terms as had been arranged for the ex- 
change of French and German prisoners. We 
were told that at this conference the Dutch were 
always seated at the table first, then from a door 
on one side came in the Germans, and from a door 
on the other side, the English. No intercourse, 
save on business, took place. At the closing meet- 



186 CAPTURED 



ing the Chief of the Germans got up and said they 
could not go without thanking England warmly for 
the way their prisoners had been treated, and ad- 
mitted that no other country had done the like. 
Our people bowed back acknowledgment and 
thanks, but could not return the compliment. 

This agreement applied to the following classes 
of interned men, the general principle followed 
being that the sick and wounded whose re-establish- 
ment to health was not likely to take place within 
one year, and whose validity had diminished by 
about 50 per cent., would be repatriated: 

(1) All those who had lost one limb, at least 
a hand or a foot. 

(2) All suffering from a grave infirmity which 
was not likely to disappear within one year, with 
or without operative treatment, for instance: 
Complete or partial ankylosis or paralysis, dimin- 
ishing by about three-quarters the use of a shoul- 
der, elbow, wrist, leg, knee or foot. 

(3) Mutilation of the face; mouth wounds, head 
wounds, causing epilepsy. 

(4) Cases of wounds to the vertebral column, 
throat, abdomen, etc. 

(5) Tuberculosis, where a cure in Switzerland 
was not likely to be useful. 

(6) Diseases affecting respiration, the heart, di- 
gestion, grave neurasthenia. 

(7) Blindness. 

(8) Deafness of certain degree. 



BACK TO MURREN — REPATRIATION 187 

(9) Mental cases. 

(10) Malarial cases (serious). 

(11) Diabetes. 

(12) Tuberculosis (cured). 

(13) Loss of an eye, if other eye were also af- 
fected. 

The two governments agreed not to allow men 
thus exchanged to fight or work on the lines of 
communication. 

The doctors in charge at Miirren carried out a 
thorough examination of every man and selected a 
certain number as eligible to appear before the final 
Commission, which was composed of three Swiss 
doctors. 

The excitement was intense when, on August 
18th, the Commission commenced work in Miirren. 
The officers were examined first. One by one they 
went into an upstairs room in the Palace Hotel 
while their wives and sisters sat breathlessly on 
the stairs, awaiting their exit and the fateful news. 
There were not many disappointments. It was 
very hard for officers to get out of Germany, and 
they were all in a more or less serious condition. 
Five only, out of twenty, were compelled to resign 
themselves to remain in Switzerland. The rest of 
us dashed to the Post Office and cabled home the 
glad tidings. 

We heard that only four hundred Germans had 
been passed for repatriation on account of the fact 
that they knew when they were well off, and refused 



188 CAPTUEED 



to present themselves to the Commission. Alto- 
gether 860 British interned prisoners had been 
accepted. 

Before leaving for home the German officers had 
a banquet — probably their last for some time to 
come — at which they drank a large quantity of the 
very best wines obtainable. We were told on very 
good authority that, instead of being jovial, this 
affair was one of the gloomiest ever held in Berne. 

At 4 o'clock in the afternoon of September 8th, 
the first load of happy and excited men descended 
the funiculaire, and thus completed the first stage 
of their voyage home. The first number of the 
B. I. M. which appeared after our departure con- 
tained the following: 

EXODUS 

" Now it came to pass on the 25th day of the 8th 
month of the 3rd year of the war against William, 
Emperor of Germany, there came unto Mtirren cer- 
tain physicians who spake, saying, Let everyone of 
you that is diseased, or hath lost of his value as a 
man of war, more than the half, return ye, all 
every man unto his own home. 

" And all the people shouted, and said, Great is 
the Commission of Doctors. 

" For every man said in his heart, Surely I shall 
be amongst the chosen. 

" Now when the physicians had gone from them 
but a few hours, then began those who were 




DEPARTURE OF REPATRIATED PRISONERS FROM MURREN. 




REUNION, IN SWITZERLAND, OF TOMMIES WITH THEIR WIVES 
AND MOTHERS AFTER THREE YEARS' SEPARATION. 



BACK TO MURREN — REPATRIATION 189 

amongst the chosen to murmur, saying, Why go we 
not hence forthwith, wherefore have we been be- 
guiled with promises? 

"But those set in authority over them went 
amongst the people, speaking good words unto 
them, saying, Wherefore murmur ye? Surely in 
a little while will they let you go. Albeit they 
knew nothing. 

"Now after ten days came messages, saying, 
Surely on the day before the Sabbath shall ye go 
out. 

" And all the people shouted, and said, Great is 
the Commission of Doctors. 

" Then Neish, chief of the mighty men of valour, 
calling together his Captains and his Lieutenants, 
commanded them, saying, Thus and thus shall ye 
do. Ye shall not shout, nor make any noise with 
your voice, neither shall any word proceed out of 
your mouth, so long as the trains remain standing 
still in the station. For lo ! is it not written in the 
book of King's Regulations. 

" On the Sth day of the 9th month of the 3rd 
year of the war against William, Emperor of Ger- 
many, that reigned in Potsdam, departed the chil- 
dren of Neish, even 182 men with their women and 
their children and their dogs, a very great multi- 
tude. 

" Moreover, there was much joy amongst those 
that departed, and they made merry, saying, Be- 
hold, Mtirren shall be covered with snow, and the 



190 CAPTURED 



land shall be white with the flakes thereof, but 
what is that to us. Look ye to it ! 

" And the people answered them and said, Go to. 
Get you down quickly, lest the Commission harden 
their hearts, and it repenteth them that they have 
let you go. 

"And the people departed by companies, every 
man according to his hotel, to every hotel an Of- 
ficer or two, according to the commandment of 
Neish, chief of the mighty men of valour. 

" And it came to pass, while the train was yet in 
the station, that a certain fellow of the tribes of 
Canada, with a loud voice about the space of ten 
minutes, cried out, and said, Well, Well, Well, 
Well, Well. 

"And the people of that country were aston- 
ished, saying, Surely this man hath a devil. 

"Now the rest of the acts of the children of 
Neish, and all that they did, shall they not be writ- 
ten in the chronicles of B. I. M. ? " 



CHAPTER XIX 
Home 

Our departure from Switzerland was a repeti- 
tion of our glorious arrival. We were sent home 
in two parties, one three days before the other, and 
those from Murren were fortunate in being included 
in the first party. As we passed through Switzer- 
land we collected, from different towns, several 
small groups which brought our numbers up to 
about four hundred. 

At Interlaken a great crowd was at the station 
to see us pass through and, as I was standing on 
the platform, I was accosted by a little Belgian sol- 
dier who knew my name. I racked my brains and 
suddenly remembered that he had been a prisoner 
in Lazarett VI, where he had acted as orderly to 
the Feldwebel. I shook him warmly by the hand 
and asked him how things were in Cologne. In 
broken English, which he had learned while in Ger- 
many, he said, " I leave Lazarett VI tree weeks ago. 
She's awful, nothing to eat — macaroni every day. 
She's better here in Suisse, n'est-ce pas? You glad 
to go home? Au revoir, bon voyage." 

At Berne we spent an hour in the station, where 
we were fed. The train also stopped for a short 

191 



192 CAPTURED 



time in Lausanne, where the station was literally 
packed with people. As we pulled out, the cheer- 
ing from the platforms and the train mingled into 
a roar that made the roof vibrate. We did not 
leave Geneva till 3.10 a. m., but in spite of the late 
hour many of our friends were at the station to 
say good-bye, and the girls of the Swiss Red Cross 
passed up and down showering us with dainties of 
every sort. 

After leaving Geneva we peered out into the 
blackness of the night to try and see the place 
where we crossed the border. Brewster was in our 
compartment. He had travelled over the same line 
before the war, and it was he who made the an- 
nouncement, " Gentlemen, we are in France ! " 

We were prisoners no longer. 

The news soon travelled the length of the train, 
and the men gave vent to their feelings by pro- 
longed cheering. 

The first stop we made in France was at Belle- 
garde. It was 4.30 a. M., but the station was 
crowded with people. As the train came to a stop 
a military guard presented arms, while a band 
played " God Save the King " and the " Marseil- 
laise." We stood smartly to attention till the last 
note sounded, and then leapt on to the platform. 
We actually stood on French territory ! 

Tables had been erected all along the platform 
and from these the kind ladies of Bellegarde served 
champagne and biscuits. This was hospitality in- 



HOME 193 

deed. We were the first train-load of repatriated 
British prisoners that had ever left Switzerland, 
and the people felt they could not do enough for us. 

Our reception at Lyons was stupendous. We 
filed past a cavalry guard and through a tremen- 
dous crowd that clapped enthusiastically as we 
passed. We were conducted to a large hall in the 
station where a speech of welcome in English was 
read by a French general, and responded to in 
French by a British staff officer. 

Motor cars were at the door and whirled ub 
through the streets — where we were pelted with 
flowers by the people — till we came to a temporary 
barracks. Here the officers were tendered a formal 
luncheon and the men, too, received an excellent 
meal. 

In the afternoon we took the men for a walk 
through the town, and at 8 o'clock boarded an 
English hospital train. There was a bed for every 
man. None of us had enjoyed this luxury when 
we were wounded and taken prisoner and, al- 
though the train was not due to leave till 10 o'clock, 
we went straight to bed. We were going to make 
up for lost time. 

The next day we stopped for a few minutes close 
to the place where some German prisoners were 
working under guard. Many of the men on our 
train had been taken prisoner at the beginning of 
the war and had received very brutal treatment. 
The hints and suggestions which they shouted to 



194 CAPTURED 



the sentries would have made the Huns tremble in 
their shoes had they but understood. 

We passed a battalion of American troops march- 
ing on the road close to the train. It was the first 
time we had seen soldiers of our new Ally, and we 
gave them a hearty cheer to which they responded 
enthusiastically. 

The crossing of the channel was made that night 
on a luxurious hospital ship, and at dawn the decks 
were crowded with men waiting to catch the first 
glimpse of Blighty. Two special hospital trains 
rushed us to London, and we were immediately 
placed in hospital to await a medical board. 

I was fortunate in arriving on the first train, in 
having my board the same afternoon, and being 
discharged from hospital with a recommendation 
for two months' leave. 

By a great piece of good fortune I spent only 
four days in England and was put on the first boat 
leaving for Canada. 

I will never forget the day we sighted land, and 
the days that seemed like months, when we 
crawled up the St. Lawrence in sight of the shore, 
but too far away to make a break and swim for it. 

When we arrived at Quebec I rushed off the boat 
and took the first train for Montreal. It didn't 
seem possible that I was actually a free man on 
Canadian soil once more, whereas, less than three 
weeks before, I had been a prisoner of war interned 
in Switzerland. 



HOME 195 

At Montreal I was met by my family. Nothing 
could have been more perfect than that reunion 
which I had pictured almost from the moment I 
had been taken prisoner. It did not happen just 
the way I had imagined it would. Words fail me 
to describe it 7 but suffice it to say that it was the 
happiest moment of my life. 



THE END 



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